The Dark Realmz

IC Central [RPG ONLY] => "Ayenee Nexus: Where Imagination Knows No Bounds => RP Archives 2005-2019 => Topic started by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:00:44 PM

Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:00:44 PM
The Temple had been silent, rows of flickering black candles ascending which each lick of an arcane zephyr- shadows rising and constantly toiling in the depths of the dark confinements of Temple Chamber preparing for what is yet to come; the awakening of one long lost to the world of Aoyn. Within that darkness wafts of incense smoke rose, twining and coiling like small smoke-induced serpents and sylphs in intricate tango or burlesque waltz- the strong and pungent scents of fumigation incense, benzoin, balsam, frankincense, red sandalwood, cassia and clove merging with that of the purification in preparation and dispelling of any "past" or "present" invading spirits; rosemary, tragacanth, henbane and sagepen. All these scents arising from the coals of nine braziers circling around the altar crafted in obsidian, provided by the Orcs in Zimbadia and now served its dark purpose here in the Temple of Tenaria at the hands of Atra'Lamia and those sworn to the Prisci.







Looking into those dark maws of this decadent place of worship, large wrought iron cauldrons blazing, lighting the very path from the perilous wolf and Wyvern infested Blackfang Mountains to this location surrounded by strange dark monolithic walls as if the very deep indigo darkness had been solidified to surround- or at least it appeared so in the bleak velveteen depths of night. The area around the Temple adorned by the sacred orchards of mysterious fruits and berries, the vineyards we; kept obviously by those sworn and dedicated to their dark purpose of worship, but produced much of the well sought wines of Tenaria aiding to it s wealth and prestige. But this night, none were seen attending to their nightly tasks- all focus would be placed upon the Temple as dark cloaked figures entered and left continuously, some carrying cloaked or wrapped items and others swinging thuribles  were more toxic or pungent aromas ascended in murky grey wafts of smoky tongues, over the consecutive time; nine days of preparations prior to the rite would incur while dark intonations of Enochian and Latin resounded throughout, echoing over the peaks of the Blackfang Mountains in decadent allegro and tenor, causing all to listen who heard.







A single cloaked figure attended the ceremonial tools, the consecrated sword an assortment of ritualistic daggers- three ceremonially shaped to perfection, 30in long and shaped like sabres, double bladed with black elaborate hilts- the blades however made of flint as to not interfere with the earth energies and engraved with archaic and demonic symbols. Another nine daggers were of a cruel design, the blades twisted before transforming into forked prongs, designed to stab, slice and flay all at the same time- these were for sacrificial purposes and serve that very task this night, nine sacrifices would be made- all youthful maidens plucked from the nine main tribes of Tenaria given to spare the murder of the entire tribe, all but a small price to pay...the chiefs first daughters, pure and chaste; these would be given to the one being summoned from the darkest depths of the nine.







The entire would be cleansed, however the Temple Guardians would be the first summoned, should any bring it upon themselves to try and stop what was inevitable they would deal with the darkest and most ancient of spirits from the Enochian Pantheon...Azidahaka (An aid of the Dark Arts, or one that may grant abilities of the Dark Arts), Tzelmoth (The Shadow of Death), Aczinor (He who is from the dark waters) and MPH ARSL GAIOL (The horned one) and then finally the Dimensional Gate Guardians in all dark sinister glory- Shaari Gehinnom also known as Shaari Moth (The Gates of Hell & the Gates of Death and no other deity could enter this building and not run the risk of being banished by the very fumes powerfully dominating the atmosphere, fumigation and purification could easily render any "uninvited" being and banish them back to their place of origin or dimension regardless of race or status.







During this mundane right of purification it would be then that the dark figures dancing in the darkness would congregate and begin the ritualistic awakening of the 'magic circle' this etched into the very obsidian floor, black and nine feet in diameter permanently constructed however the nine Prisci would need to place droplets of their blood into the appropriate cups also embedded according to their levels of status- to activate this device all their vitae was needed, carefully synchronized in perfect alignment and order causing the mechanical device to function but it would be Atra'Lamia, Nakitta and Farsiris needed for the final procedure. Without any of these elements, the circle would simply remain dormant. In turn, each of the Prisci pulled from pouches or sheaths their daggers, hands upon hilt as each in turn took blade and sliced it against wrists.







So synchronized it would appear as if they were using those blades as bows to strike violins creating a crimson orchestra of severed flesh, streams of blood filling each of those embedded cups to the brim in anti-clockwise order. It wasn't until the last had just filled their chalice to the brim before the ground gently shook beneath them- the mechanical/magnetic device aroused from sacred slumber, the circumference of the circle slowly gyrating as sonorous clunking sounds were audibly heard...the blood dispersing as each cup open to feed the attributes of this "device" as the centre of the circle began to open revealing a black liquid like substance shimmering with chimera-cerulean illumination beneath the surface, but if one looked closer they would discover that the black malignant waters also appeared quite a dark vermillion and also resembling that of a womb pulsating with new life...awaiting.







With the awakening of the 'magick circle' another noticeable occurrence would happen, a part of the ceiling opening in response revealing the very Lunar phase- this night the Lunar Eclipse would reflect and cause yet a more profound magnetic pull of energies on the material plane and influencing that of the Outer Planes. From the gyrating black waters within the heart of the circle a reflection would rebound of the waters directly to the centre of the Dimensional Gates; making the search far easier to locate and bring forth during the Grand Summoning, every element that could possibly be used to aid this 'working' would be used, without scruple or judgment- the time was now and nothing would prevent its success not in this world or any other. The Grand Summoning itself would take the course of nine consecutive days and nights, during this time the Lunar Phase of Eclipse would preside; forming that of what is known in Ancient times as the 'Black Sun' where many dark events had been performed every 2000 years when this natural phenomenon occurred and this would be no different, a deity would be re-manifest and incarnated into his own form that would cause many to gape in disbelief...but no tricks would be used in which to deceive for what their eyes would see would be as real as their own image reflecting into the surface of a mirror or the very air in which they breathe.







An infant would be heard wailing in the fissures of the Temple, that harrowing cry demanding attention though none would be given- yet another element of the sacrificial lamb to relish and savour- unbaptized and wholesome for the world to marvel and yet this night would exist no more; yet again nothing in this world came for free and it was no different when manipulating the spheres, they had to be appeased before granting favour of those dark things which presided and ruled, unlocking each plane with the blood and soul so artistically shed, a soul for a soul though in this case it would be nine and another thrown in for good measure. All awaiting the presence of those two dark beauties to arrive and begin the proceedings of summoning the third, then, the Grand Summoning would begin and in the course of those requirements Atra'Lamia would appear, melting from the darkness like a poignant Dark Madonna draped in nothing but the flesh of her creation.







Ordained in the elaborate ritualistic jewellery which accentuated the supple milky smooth skin framed by those lustrous iridescent ravenesque cascades falling over svelte shoulders like a raven fugue smothering snow-covered landscapes, well-formed sumptuous breast slightly covered by those ravening tresses exposing pert cleavage. At her presence those of the Prisci dared not look upon her form and in turn kept their heads positioned downward looking upon the floor even as they bowed and took their positions around the circle, simply to aid in the summoning of  Farsiris in order that Atra's energy remained at its full potency and potential, the Grand Summoning itself would be quite draining on all involved, vast amounts of energy used all in pulling this being forward, it would be a battle and all should be prepared for this factual annoyance.







From the shadows and into the dancing overture of candlelight, casting interesting and intricate shadows over that lithe naked form so curvaceous and unspoiled, just like that naked crying babe screaming from the darkness- as supple and well kept. Concaved navel glistening in aubergine effervescence where ceremonial amulet rested allowing further visual explorations of womanhood, bare and mellifluous, the illumination kissing slender curved hips and thighs to those long slender legs and perfect ankles and feet, free from the tourniquet of bandages , free from the restrictions of cloth or lace; the others attending would also be expected to cast aside worldly garments and embrace that which was the beauty of femininity and nature. What was there not to admire in those shapely statuesque forms that any famous artists would dare to explore on the canvas, painting every curve with a wondrous eye as she exquisitely poised over a chaise of black silk- there was no difference between that pose of seduction than the intricate spellbinding ways of ritualistic art; both would be masterpieces in their own right depending upon the eye of the beholder, and hopefully the beholder in this instance would be gratefully pleased.







Using an amulet with the direct properties to "call" the presence of  Farsiris from present location, this decadent beauty would be summoned strictly for her expertise in these exact matters and the fact that Farsiris would be a great aid in this procedure, Atra needed those at her side who could administer their own resources and not be a drain upon hers; this was crucial- each needed to behold their own weight and initiate their own signatures within this summoning; each needed to perform the ritual at their level of experience using the traditions of their experience, should one way not function as proficiently as it should there were another two resources at play; obstacles were expected and it would be foolish to think otherwise....rituals of this magnitude always came with problems and perils. Farsiris had her experience, and was extremely adept with her abilities and skills- she would be an asset and one well rewarded with title upon its success. Nakitta, her resources would be benefit on those governing the nine, they were familiar with her presence and less likely to step in the way from reaching the one sought- as for ritualistic ability surely Nakitta would hold her own, Atra would expect no less in one she claimed as 'daughter' the others in the past had all been nothing but disappointments.







Holding the amulet in both hands, concentration would be linked directly to Farsiris energies extracting and lashing out in which to coerce and direct in subtle tendrils of benign energy, not forcing but generally asking/requesting her appearance to attend this 'working', she would not literally force a potential ally to bid to her request as if it was dominated by a hostile command- this would be asked but persuasively suggested. Reaching beyond the fabrics of the material, and into each dimension, eventually slitting molecules of psionic abilities to infiltrate all dimensions seeking the one required, unnoticed by any others that may be using scrying, dimensional extracting devices, psionics, clairaudience, auspex or any other means of invading on private spiritual matters- all they would hear was a cacophony of static and incoherent transitory squelches unable to be decoded or deciphered. Such tranquil yet dark and nefarious voices uttered, travelling upon the winds in ancient tongues- calling the name of  Farsiris directing her, should she hear directly to the "hidden" Temple within Tenaria, having been constructed over the period of nine years, directly for this purpose- and now that time had come, the ninth part of the Aoyn prophesy at play, unfolding the final elements of the hidden grimoire, placed deep in the chthonian chambers of Blackfang Mountains by Atra'Lamia herself years before where both Farsiris and Nakitta were mentioned.







No verbal incantation of manifestation would be spoken where Farsiris was concerned only those familiar filaments in which to draw on and locate, enough that would cause interest or curiosity simply enough to follow and appear just outside of the 'magick circle' where Atra stood though directly opposite, Farsiris compelled to appear on the westward   quarter of the circle, Nakitta's place would southward and Atra's eastward with the altar placed directly in the heart, each night a new life would be taken in the name of the one being conjured- this very night two lives would be lost, the infant whose wails weave with the dark timbre of incantation adding further to the sinister atmosphere and the first of the nine virgins solely chosen for their beauty and pureness- to please the Dark One in all his majestic glory, but it would not be the only thing to please once manifested, another nine would be brought forth from the mortal villages of Tenaria simply to please sadistic and sexual carnal desires should he have any, to defile and profane them in any manner he chose as fit- surely after so many years, that lust for flesh would be beyond madness; such a thoughtful gift from Mistress to Master.







Now it was only a matter of waiting, everything prepared to perfection- only the final touches and key elements need manifest... Farsiris & Nakitta, it was these three who were undeniably faithful, striving to reach through the planes and hear those requests of return, all others were labelled as fakes or traitors in the eyes of Atra and would be regarded as exactly that should paths cross- and that factor would definitely certain. Still holding that amulet, eyes narrowing in ominous effluences before slowly closing and focusing fully on contacting Farsiris, Nakitta had already been summoned by letter containing a map of the Temples location and the request fro her to attend, bringing the letter with her to be destroyed in the very cauldron of flames inside the Temple, after Nakitta would safely pass through the gigantic Mithril gates they would be sealed tightly, the monolithic clockwork devices unwound sealing all from the outside world, no intruders would safely enter beyond those gates, no request would be heard to enter they would be met with that dark archaic droned chanting....and nothing more other than the strong sense of something unspeakable lurking from all directions; the very Temple Guardians summoned and ordered to prevent any intrusion.







Now, it begins...
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:06:47 PM
The earth reverberated the Sanskrit intonations of ancient prayer. The tenor voices of low mediations could be heard, originating from an isolated corner of the material plane. Only a few who could read the Sanskrit scrolls that still existed knew of this place. Among the cliffs set a temple carved out in the rock face between the top and the bottom. The only ledge of entrance was as wide as the long staircase that led to the double doors that stood open to the arid air of the desert. Jagged placement of the cliffs natural edges were only interrupted by the delicate designs of windows or carved balconies that opened the various levels within the temple and allowed the circulation of scented air through the temples main hall.







The challenge for a potential acolyte was clear from the map one received in translating the Sanskrit. First was the journey across the vast desert of space. Only a few oasis stood between the jungle and the temples cliff face. The next challenge if one was wise enough would be to gain purchase in climbing down the cliff valley to find the temple that rested in the face below. Many went without water and food for days so the challenge to find purchase in the temple was a test of will and mind. Should an acolyte make the journey in successful strides they were taken to the High Priestess of this obscure Order of Priests and Priestesses. Many an acolyte would fall in awe of the Priestess whispering of beauty and prophecy she had heard many times before. A goddess she had been called. Those who held the faith in research and traveled the perilous path named her the daughter of Vishnu. Corrections in these acolyte obsessions were some of the hardest to break down. She was only Farsiris Alia Sharvani a priestess of the Order of Trimurti, born to the prophecy and given immortality in form and power.







However, today was the prayers of Vishnu. Great Columns of white marble stood at either side of the double doors. Leading through the open threshold was the meditation room of the main hall, lining back towards the carved altars and visions of the triadic deities of the Order. Brahma the creator stood like the father over all to see. Vishnu, the preserver, stood to the right under the arm of Brahma that held the high ceiling with his supporting power. Shiva, the destruction and the resurrection, stood at the left under the  other arm of Brahma. A Sea of blues, tans and dark browns spotted the floor of the main hall. Only a small corridor between the huddle mass of intoning populace existed like a snake finding its maze through the room. No sounds of gongs and instruments marred the synchronized tones of voices melding into one song.







Shaantakaaram bhujangashayanam



      (With peaceful demeanor / Resting on the world-serpent i.e. the energy running the universe, or Prana)



Padmanaabham suresham



      (With the lotus-navel / Beloved of the gods)



Vishvaadhaaram gagana-sadrisham



(Supporter of the world / Who looks infinite & magnificent like the sky)



Megha-varnam shubha-angam



(With the color of clouds / Every part of whose body is auspicious)



Lakshmee-kaantam kamala-nayanam



(Who glows with the radiance of Lakshmi, or Glory / With eyes like the lotus)



Yogibhir-dhyaana-gamyam



(Whom yogis strive to reach in their deepest states of meditation)



Vande-vishnum bhava-bhaya-haram



(I bow to that Vishnu / Who takes away(eliminates) all fears from the minds of devotees as soon as they arise)



Sarva-lokaika-naatham



(To He, who is the Master & Supporter of all worlds)







This was the prayer of  Vishnu sahasranama, The Thousand Names of Vishnu. Incense and sound lined the walls of this great hall. Farsiris and seven other priests and priestesses faced the audience of worshipers. The small step brought their gaze level with the top of the sea of worshiping acolytes and worshipers. She sat in the middle cross-legged in the position of lotus of Vishnu. The light blue robes slanted across her shoulders to lie in neat folds down across her body. Her flares were the only distinction of race set apart from the others. Stretched back from the tops of her ears tucked the great flares given to her by Brahma?s gift of the changeling race. Bright white outline designs floating in gossamer block patterns of pale blues and greens. Tendrils of these flares, white spirals of the half-moon shape spilled down back away from her shoulders the end coil around themselves on the sandstone floor. the length of the rest of her raven tresses lay with the silken quality of her immortal gift of eternal life. Arms exposed to the rite of Vishnu?s worship. The wrists coiled with same networking of designs and blocked patterns that reached beyond the tiny wrists and graced only the lower half of her arms. Her skin a paleness compared to her bronzed counterparts of head priests and priestesses.







OM Sri Vedavyasa rishihi







Anushtup Chandhaha







Vishwaroopo Mahavishnu devata







This was the third rite, the third repetition of the thousand names of Vishnu. The devotional prayer begun and the first of the three lines of Names spoken before Farsiris?s calm meditative expression fluttered from its concentrated vows to Vishnu. The delicate lip of her lips faltering on the intonation that vibrated from the center of her being outward to the main hall of her Order. Intonations continued throughout the main hall as the raven half-moon shapes of her lashes opened to vision of the room. Calm and meditative expression lined the silent lips and followed through the natural glow of green emanating from the gaze of the high priestess. Light pierced shadow in the thoughts arising in her mind. A whispered request spoken of a need to be fulfilled by her ties and powers with Shiva, the destruction and resurrection of life.  Her meditation was broken by the summons of another?s life and power to be restored again among the material plane of mater. It had been awhile since she was summoned for such a rite. Vishnu?s powerful a kind presence urged her decision to stand and accept the summons. Intonations continued despite her obvious disruptions.  Alight touch on the hand of the priestess to her right spoke volumes to the woman. She was next in line should Farsiris find the need to travel again.







The light blue material fluttered and flourished in the arid air of the incensed halls. Coming to her feet the material settled, the length of the robes collecting and coiling around her feet. A simple shifting of her flares brought the coiling spirals of the white ends down the length of her body bouncing in the freedom of the open air again. The long raven mane fluttering with the soft streak of pale blue running its course from her temple to the ends just past her knees. Youthfully prime she still existed in the form of a woman-child, awakened at the age of 16 and given immortality. Bright red lips and irises were seared in a constant serene expression of her faith in enlightenment. Only the fluttering of material was seen lifted by the small foot stepping into the summons of a dark resurrection.







From light to dark she materialized through the space of realms from the main position of the Trumurti Temple to the westerly quarter of the circle. Sandstone walls carved in the intricate patterns of Syria?s ancient artisans to the Obsidian Walls of a new temple. The contrast was as the day is to the night. The distraction of this did not enter Farsiris? concentration. The adjustment of light was taken on by the measure of the natural glow of green emanating from the depths of the meditative gaze. One hand delicately manicured reached upon and around to the opposite shoulder. The pale blue material of silken folds wrapped around her body and laid in careful precision of the rite she had just left. The coil of folds easily unwrapped in her touch and she drew the material around her feet and ankles to be left as device of her own talents in summoning the power of Shiva into her presence.







Her small frame revealed bit by bit of the exposing material coiling around her feet was the flawless adolescence of youth, when the child within becomes the graceful woman of the future. The curves of her small breasts hidden by the fluttering line of raven hair blending into the shadows of Obsidian that graced this temple. The flares blended and moved under the weighted pressure of the material coiling over her head and body to the floor. Only one end of the long traill of material was held in her grip and curling around the lower back of her legs. Exposed now were all the markings of her body. Her ankles and calves, like her wrists and arms bore the symbolic patterns of blocks and colors to match her flares. Those that stood behind her would see the vision of a shape in this repeated pattern of her beingthrough the curtain of the raven mane. It was a simple summoning, for Shiva was always with her, in mind and protection. Her small voice, beautiful and seductive, intoned a chant made for this purpose of bring Shiva to light within her petite frame.







Pradhanam Prakritim Tatcha Yadahur-lingamuttamam



Gandhavarnarasairhinam Sabda-sparsadi-varjitam.







Great Shiva of Destruction send me your life.



Bring to me the Resurrection of your kind and compassionate touch.



Bestow the Lingam of your caress upon my body



So I may be One with your Power,



So I may bring life unto Death.







Dark raven lashes closed to the half-moon shadows lengthening across the tops of her pale cheeks. Flares, wrist and arms, ankles and calves shifted in design and color. The green faded to make room for the blue. The coiled shape of serpent rising around her spine and lifting and rising the presence of Shiva within the small petite frame of her body. White lines spread thin to mark only the perimeter of each blocked pattern. The coiled curls of her flares thinned to an almost point tickling the smooth folds of silk wrapped around her feet. The material?s circumference was outlined with the pale glowing light of blue. At last when the simple shift was complete the half-moon lashes fluttered open and the vision of blue erupted from the concentrated gaze that turned to the hostesses of this Grand Summoning Rite.A measure of innocence stared into the conductores of this Great Rite. Her beauty was held in the vision of inocence. However, she was not alein to the touch of experience and wisdom of the flesh as well as the mind.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:08:28 PM
The manifestation of  Farsiris- in that moment body would sweep into a most grandiose bow,  allowing those ravenesque cascades to fall in spiralled strands covering those statuesque features; an act of deep respect not bestowed on just anyone, prestige and respect shown at all times. The presence of the last requested person was yet to arrive, Nakitta- but should Atra?Lamia feel these proceedings being held up she would continue without; there was no doubt Farsiris and Atra?Lamia couldn?t handle these proceedings on their own should that be the case, it was imperative that everything was handled accordingly and everything kept to the precise moment to allow this to run smoothly. There was no room for error, and there was certainly no time to be delayed regardless of position or ingredient to ensure the success of the Grand Summoning.







Having granted the accolade of notable courtesy and respect, folded physique would leisurely ascend- greeting black mirrors with that of Farsiris?s rapturous blue orbs, entwining that of abyss and omnipotent cerulean. Iridescent indigo luminous in the incandescence of shadow-waltzed overture?creeping shadows caught like marionette silhouettes, shadow-puppets dancing in caricature of the events soon to be encountered. Variable movement shifting and shaping those conglomerations in gyrating pillars, twisting and contorting as the Temple Guardians began to awake; no preparation of summoning was required for these ancient spirits, the sense of magickal workings sweet upon pronged and forked tongues licking the air for any subterfuge from hidden others, or hapless wandering spirits simply pulled towards the Temple spires- curious of the gathering ectoplasmic vivacity rushing through the atmosphere, all concentrated on those colossal tridents perorating the sky. Pulling in the energies of the Realm of Tenaria, allowing its dark heart to drone in vociferous din?slight tremors beneath where they stood, and now it would only be polite to inform Farsiris the reason why she had been summoned for this specific purpose.







Mellifluous tones, the bliss of demise and darkness pouring forth twixt lips of seductive poisons- from where the muted muse may find the inspiration to sing in alchemies of sorrow, where dark daemons drowsed unstirred in dulcet ambience?a feign that most never detected to be licked by the silver-tongue or the melodious peal of silver bells, chining to a lullaby of death. Passion and vehemence uncoiling from each crescendo to octave; a macabre requiem in plumes of spellbound modulation; mouth parting, the blooming on a deep vermillion flower where both sensual perfumes and poisons so opiate?clandestine honey imbibed on her accent, though there was no purpose in those words for deceit or manipulations, Atra?Lamia had far to much respect for this adept practitioner before her.







?Dark libertine? sister of the Light and Darkness, both so intricately weaved, I am Atra?Lamia Darkbane and your presence honors me for you have heard my call. Tell me; is it not of nature to be loving and hateful, compassionate and unsympathetic, so pitiless and cruel? You may question why I have asked for your attendance, I require an adept to aid with the proceedings of a Grand Summoning?I require those who are capable of focusing and concentrating their energies into a egregore; a perfectly synchronized group mind in which to focus and perform the initial summoning whilst we perform the Enochian Rites of Calling, it is complex and it will proceed for the duration of nine days and nine nights without fail. I know I may be asking a lot from one I have never encountered before other than through acquaintances and mentioning- it would be an honor to work alongside one of your calibre Farsiris! Your name is no stranger to me??







*a brief pause*







?We wait only for the presence of one other, Nakitta, Queen of Helvitrias?she is familiar with those who rule the Nine and I believe that her expertise will aid us, but be rest assured- if she does not grace us with her presence this evening, then we must continue without her- time is short, ever second so precious for the successful outcome of this summoning- we have no patience for time wasters and I am sure you have your own matters to attend to. If you cannot aid me, I shall understand and respect that- it is going to be time-consuming and draining?will you aid me in this ritualistic endeavour Farsiris? ?







She would wait for that reply, if was courtesy to ask and not assume- and Atra?s patience was already waning in regards to Nakitta. With a brisk clap of both hands, cloaked figures would attend to Farsiris, making sure her comfort was priority before all else, should she require a purification bath, or nourishment she would be pampered and tended to with the utmost respectful hands of the Prisci- there was nothing else to do at present until Nakitta arrived and then immediately the summoning would begin.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:11:18 PM
Question of nature always held philosophy in them. Who would know better than a follower of the faith traveling the expanse of this earth in search of such balance with centuries of immortality? Her orbs traced the lips spouting words of harmony and discord with the smoothness of a trader on the desert winds selling a camel for the price of a soul. The cornflower blue gaze held her meditative expressions as the gracious hostess poured out the need for one of her experienced knowledge. Ties to the great destructor also helped in such matters.







It was only polite and gracious to return the favor of respect and admiration. The long waterfall of her raven tresses flowed forward with the bend of her body. The silken material that now became apart of what housed the great touch of Shiva himself draped in delicately shaved pleats across her arm, winding casually up and around her wrist the end dangling from her fingers. The rest leads the pleated mass back around her legs to the coil that was now a platform for her feet. The slithers of her flares drifted as if they were also apart of the great mane of her hair. Shimmers of the geometric designs winked against the reflection of light housed in this great hall of the temple. One leg bent in supplication of the great bow she gave to the hostess before rising back to her full gaze.







A small touch of a voice bred for the innocence of beauty but held in the experience of life caressed the air between them with a response. The marks on her cheeks flutters under the gentle movement of her lips to form words and thoughts into the spoken exchange.







?I am the one who is honored Lady of the Darkbane it has been quite sometime since a summons has been sent to me. So few know of my prophecy and talents within the Trimurti Order. Furthermore, life exists in a balance of opposites. Human and immortal nature is destined to find the evil inherent in all goodness. One without the other would mean the scales tipped only for the side ignorance. Wisdom and experience does not come without suffering. I am sure you, Great Lady, understand as much.?







Allowing the philosophy to sink into the guests within the hall of participants more than for their great hostess she paused only a small moment of time.







?The great Shiva?s kind touch of rebirth is mine to give when he allows. I shall aid you when and where I can great Mistress Darkbane. I am here to experience and to serve as I was summoned. Also this summons came at a most auspicious moment when one desires the opposite of what one has at their feet.?







It was only a subtle request that she be allowed to visit for a time in these lands of the temple. However, if refused she would merely traverse the expanse of space through a more menial path. The journey in either case would bring her to a different level of endurance in both the physical and mental realms. Knowledge through study or interaction of people and elements was always good in a pilgrimage/quest. Long silken lashes covered the cornflower blue irises for but a moment as her head bowed forward in her subtle request for a place here among the temple.







The sound of her hands clapping caused the lashes to look sharply to the figures approaching. She understood and respected this but in firm warning her free hand came up to stop these ignorant hands from touching either her body or stepping on the silken pleats that now held the irreversible and unpredictable presence of Shiva?s power. Only she who touched the presence of this God and Lord found protection, guidance and even love in the embracing chaos of whims born of not just compassion but love in power. Once the hooded figures stood sill in their half-taken steps, she would address them directly in warning.







?Forgive me but the touch of great Shiva becomes an unpredictable accounting of who will attain enlightenment in immortality and who should fall into destruction. Each shroud of re-birth is made for the person that I am allowed to give it to. However, those who risk the temptation of touching a shroud not of their own could be melted into fires of Shiva?s rage forever.?







Again turning her eyes to her Great hostess, she bowed halfway from her previous descent rising to add lightly. ?It is greatly appreciated of your hospitality while we lay in wait. Nonetheless, I have preformed many of the preparatory rituals of purification before the rite of Vishnu and the first two chants of the Vishnu?s ?Prayer of a Thousand Names? has focused my will and energy to withstand a great number of days in ritual. I would not want to unduly rid you of another acolyte that might be useful in these lengthy proceedings to come.?
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:17:21 PM
With the last notable gestures of respect, Atra would make a slight inclination of obeisance towards Farsiris as it seemed now was the time to begin the proceedings having her requests met- Atra moving from the position of the quarter towards the centre of the circle, standing next to the altar where the first of the youthful maidens would be sprawled over and chained, kicking and screaming in futile discordia. Prisci hands grasping around willowy limbs like restricting serpents to ensnare and dominate; with each approach the maiden fought harder, thrashing and pulling to liberate herself enough to run and escape the terrifying fate she knew was inevitable. Fawn-like eyes look pleadingly upon Atra and Farsiris as they dragged her to the altar, forcing her over that cold, merciless stone before chains were placed around wrists and feet; clunking and rattling metallic ricocheted resonations echoed as she still remained fighting...to the very last breath, though the more she fought the stronger the energy escalated- fuelling the Temple's energies and empowering the 'magick circle' which now began humming in a droned reverberation.







Before the opening and preparation of the soul could be conducted Atra'Lamia signalled one of the Prisci over to her, the wavering of a blunt gesture applied to delicate pallid hand- eyes beaming in discordant nebulous effervescence, the flickering candlelight reflecting in those eyes like black swirling vortexes ready to engulf worlds and constellations; planetary and malignant. Amber-shadowed serpentines writhing over ashen flesh like ethereal fingers caressing sumptuous virginal skin, spectral lovers exploring daring curves coveted betwixt light, shadow and darkness adding a wondrous collage over her form, amorphous and yet complete. It would be the words darkly spoken that would rake chills in spider-adorations, teasing every tiny hair that rose as if static graced the tingling spine in sick reprieve or revelation just to be so close to the ravenous beauties before him though eyes remained pinned to the obsidian floor at all times to ensure that she knew his respect was at all times maintained.







Atra'Lamia would allow a raspy chuckle to escape before her wishes were spoken, this would ensure that now the gates leading to the Temple would remain locked regardless of invitation or assumed participation, they would be simply told to move along and come back at the appropriate hour for now the Temple was attending to matters that could not be disturbed by an on-looking eye- even the maidens screams would vividly heard across the ranges of Blackfang until muted by throat becoming dry and hoarse, but also screams were not a rare occurrence within the dark corners, ravines and forests of Blackfang- being the patroness of wolves was quite the advantage and one of the main reasons why Atra'Lamia had chosen to take control of Eastern Tenaria, even the mortals were accepting as long as she protected them and ensured the success of their crops and farmlands, shelter and no longer suffering unto starvation and sickness; it was this reason they adored her so and suppling nine of the most beautiful maidens from each of the tribes was a small price to pay.







"Tell the guards at the Temple Gates that no one is to enter the Temple grounds regardless of whether they have invitation or not, or declare it is a matter of importance- for nine consecutive days and nights the Temple shall be closed, they will either have to return then or take their matters to the Temple in Ayen or the Blood Temple of the Hokkaido Clan here in Tenaria. If they wish to contest this...kill them, I have no toleration for subordinates this evening. Should the guards fail this, then they shall pay with their families lives- error has no place here, understood??







The Prisci would nod quickly, attending immediately to her orders and vanishing into the darkness outside, returning after moments and once again going back to Temple chores before all the Prisci would turn towards Farsiris and Atra'Lamia bow once and then leave, one after the other in perfect symmetry...it was now time to commence.







Raising both hands towards the ceiling, standing in the 'Goddess' position the first conjuration would be spoken by all in turn starting with Atra'Lamia, whilst repeating the words the centre of focus would be opening the way, creating a bridge in which to link to the 'Outer Planes' and coerce the one being summoned to prepare for entering the material world- to appear in an appealing form, one less conspicuous that the mortals could easily relate to but yet still tremble in fear knowing the omnipotence of his very name and reputation; to inspire energy to increase and concentrate from the 'magick circle' upwardly through to the Temple Spires creating the first of the nine portals required. Electricity and tempestuous grinning winds of unfurled hatred would assail the night as the first stage of the eclipse moved into effect. To centre the focus of vigorous might, and turn it perfectly into a programmed egregore in which to send through the portals and guide Varsinax back into the material plane; dispersing any hostile energies and sending them hurling back towards the caster, any banishing rites or energies sent to prevent this occurrence would also be deflecting back to its sender...nothing would cease this ceremonial magickal rite from being accomplished.







Everyone conjuring and directing their energies, repeating the very words that Atra'Lamia does in sonorous cacophony, compelling and coercing- dominating over every sphere and gate, commanding each to abruptly open- focusing that channel of power through the centre like a sharpened sword to perforate the living heart though in this case accomplishing the opposite, the Temple would become a living tool, generating vast amounts of power that no other could even slightly match- the functions causing the 'magick circle' to whirl in quickening motion, spinning faster and faster with each provocation of energy mustered by these decadent beauties. Emanations of blood-hued aura alighted around the naked, sinuous physique of Atra'Lamia, black electric vein-like tendrils lashing, crackling as they whipped against the chilly atmosphere of the Temple, warmth asphyxiated by the presences of so many malevolent spirits were attracted to observe. Although none could be seen, the rhythmic thumb of ritual drums would be heard, strict yet soft musical manipulations to bring one into that trance-like state, svelte form to away with that rhythmic beat- bringing one into the induced state of oracular trance, hypnotic beats applied to match the perfect control of breath whilst the evocation of energy was applied with the count of one long inhalation, holding it for the count of five and then allowing a slow, long exhalation of the same count, shifting from the 'Goddess' position and allowing both arms to rest at her sides.







Allowing those to come to exact synchronization with her, only then would Atra's hands curl around the  hilt of the sacrificial dagger, raising it to the ceiling the first of the summoning would now be spoken in the harsh tongue of the Enochian language: at the end of this conjuration/summoning the energy gathered and installed would explode, causing the 'magick circle' to gyrate faster until the first gate would open in the centre of the spinning circle, the magnetic field working as a lock to prevent the first gate from closing whilst the second gate was opening; all nine gates consecutively would be 'forced' open creating a dimensional bridge, anything could easily emerge from the dark depths of the abyss and this would be something all within the Temple should be well prepared for.







Whilst the conjuration/summoning is spoken Farsiris and Nakitta would be urged to interlace their energies with that of Atra's creating the homunculus egregore and programming it simply to retrieve Varsinax and guide him through the gates back into the material plane. Should anything stand in its way, the obstacle would be eliminated by a electrical charge of combined omnipotent power, disabling its abilities and rendering it incapacitated, it would be the egregore that combined the majority of the trinities power (Atra, Farsiris and Nakitta) as it had the most gruelling task, their task on the material was simply to demand those gates to open and bargain with the Lords to keep those gates open, that would be Nakitta's direct purpose and it would be the compelling supreme energies of Atra'Lamia and Farsiris to forcefully open those dimensional gates one after the other, extracting the energies within each plane and using that to open the next; it would be a taxing affair but one that could not be considered as a minor working- this had never been done before, or at least not to this extent.







First Movement: "Do-kikale vaunala zodimezod pire, oel aladonu nanaeel do-atarahe piamoel OD vaoan, do-lonsa iaida Ancor, Amacor, Amides, theodonias, Anitor, Christeos mikalazodo nanaeel christeos apila do-elonusa Asmodeus, kasareme e-karinu OD busada tarianu; lu-ipamisa. Nema!"







Second Movement: "Oel vavinOD zacam, ils GAH Varsinax OD lansh vorsg iaida, gohus pujo ils, darebesa do-o-i-ape beralanenis, baldachiensis, paumachia, OD apologiae sedes: OD micalzo artabas, gah mir, Liachidae OD noquodi salman telocahe: OD tabaanu otahila Apologiae do em poamala ol vavin-ils OD zacam! OD lansh vorsg iaida, gohoosa pujo ils, darbs! Do-o-i-ape totza dasa cameliatza OD asa, kasareme tofajilo toltoregi darebesa. Pilahe, Oel, dasa Iada e-oela azodiazodore iada, dasa i qo-a-al marebe totza jijipah, larinuji-ilasa do-o-i-ape dasa I sald micalzo lada, El, mikalazodo OD adphant ils gahe. OD oel gohoosa pujo ilasa, darebesa, do-o-i-ape totza dasa camliax OD as; OD do vomsarg, do-o-a-inu lada. Pilahe do-o-i-ape Adonai, El, Elohim, Elohi ehyeh asher ehyeh, zabaoth, Elion, Iah, tetragrammaton, Shaddai, Enay, iad iaida, ol lring-ils; OD do umplif gohus, darbs! "







Third Movement: "Ils gah, Zamran c-noqod ol oanio aspt comselh aziazor ollor OD fetahe-are-zodi. OD do-o-i-ape adapehaheta Tetragrammatron Iehevohe, gohoosa, darebesa! soba sapaha lansh nazoda poilp ozongon caelzod holado, pereje je-ialpon caosaga zodacare do-gizodyazoda, OD tofajilo salamanu pe-ripesol, OD caosaji, OD faorgt ors chis ta gizyax, OD chis do-mir, OD oucho do-coraxo. Niis, ca, ils gah Varsinax. Ol oanio: christeous faorgt affa, imvamar laiad, OD darebesa nanaeel. Niis, fetahe-are-zodi, zodamran pujo ooanoan; zodoreje: darebesa jijipah! Lape oel larinuji-ilasa do-o-i-ape lada voan ds apila, Helioren. Darbs jijipah, eka, do-miame pujo valasa, ta anugelareda zodamran ooanoan: zorge gohol laiada do-bianu OD do-omepe!"







At the second movement, the dagger would spin within adept hands to point towards over the virgin maiden chained to the altar and still violently twisting in hopes to break free; as the words transpired in the same sonorous cacophony of commands and domination. The conjuration echoing through the entire Temple, the din of drums slowly fading as the naked form of Atra'Lamia swayed in perfect pendulum motion, caught in the moment and energy of the working, sweet intoxicating blood rushing through veins causing her heart beat to increase in thunderous dis; adrenalin urging, forcing that very voice to increase and shake the foundations in gentle persuasions. Blood aura whipping against the elements like infernal flames licking the Hyperion of madness, soaring upwardly in fiery pillars of complete power- a conflagration travelling through the centre of the opening in the ceiling and erupting the spires which send that very release straight through the firmament causing it to explode in vermillion haze like a ruptured hymen, engorging the tempestuous skies in the illumination of tinctures of blood rolling into the black, lightening striking in a radiance of hellfire and wrath before assailing the earth like falling stars; the chariot of fire drawn against the wounded sky signalling his coming.







At the third movement the dagger would descend, striking the thrashing maiden twixt sternum and lung perforating both as a well of blood flooded through gasping lips, the last scream forced but adorned in the jetsam of crimson salutations, drowning in her own fluids as dagger blade twisted in ascended motion, slicing and tearing through rib cage to liberate the rose of her soul from its prison chamber; the heart still beating as right hand scooped it from that opened cell and thrown within the burning brazier next to the altar. Left hand still upon the hilt of the dagger as again it twisted in adroit hand though this time slicing downwards from naval to virginal loins; disembowelled and deflowered by that same dagger severing life to death- intestines too would be thrown to the brazier as that scolding scent of burning organs and flesh entwined with the now evaporating aromas of purification. Sexual organs extracted, sliced and peeled from bone and also cast into those ruby flames; the demons of Lord of the Abyss would gladly welcome yet another whore to their dining table, to feast upon, rape and humiliate for the rest of eternity; all but a ritualistic gift to appease and be more inclined to allow a brief intrusion on their planes.







The blood spilled from the altar further feeding the voracious 'magick circle' imbibing on the fluid of pure virgins only increased the vigorous energies more, causing it to spin even faster; after the first passage of the summoning/conjuration and the opening of the first gate the rest of the evening and day would be spent on increasing the power more, concentrating it upon the passage of the second and third gates- pushing back anything attempting to crawl up through the first gate and be released upon the planar; one should be sure to keep in mind that many of these dark things have never been on the material plane so the curiosity ot it would be extremely tempting- while Atra'Lamia raised the power, Farsiris and Nakitta would need to place their focus on pushing these squamous masses back into the dark pits where they crawled or slithered from, as Atra'Lamia directed and channelled her power through, they would need to focus their power into the gate and urging the egregore further into the darkness. The egregore itself taking a more demonic appearance of pulsating vermillion, weaving and intertwining masses of hungry power ready to consume anything in its path; a eater of worlds- anything destroyed by this amazing orb of power would be equally divided betwixt the trinity, returning other traits and new abilities from those engulfed.







The Temple Guardians now focused on the outside of the Temple and within the surrounding forests beyond the walls; hungry for wandering souls- their presences easily felt by freezing changes and variations in the climate and atmosphere, any 'natural' and most 'supernatural' animals or beings would be greatly unnerved, horses rising upon haunches before snorting in protest and bolting through the forests to be away from this wretched forsaken place. Driving the wolves and Garou?s to frenzy, killing any foolish enough to venture outdoors, violent requiems would howl from all regions of Blackfang Mountains. Acts of unspeakable violence would burst from the Tenarian cities of rebellion-intoxicated mortals against rulers, even the most virtuous man would find it difficult to resist carnal and primordial traditions installed in the history of mankind; all would taste the poison from the tongues of sin, imbibing that decadent wine like honey from the Gods- violent or acts of lust and rape would only further fuel the spires of the Temple, drinking and releasing energy in a continuous cycle; feeding the mechanical monster with all the debauchery of misanthropy.







Having spilt the blood of the first victim, now the First Enochian Key would be spoken, the Enochian combined and the quality of the words spoken unite to create a pattern of sound that causes tremendous reactions in the atmosphere; the barbaric tonal qualities so very profound. The dagger now placed back upon the altar embedded in the soft pliable naval of the maiden, piercing the womb. Now hands moved for the hilt of the ceremonial sword, this being the symbol of aggressive force and acts as an extension and intensifier of the arm with which Atra now points from the body of the fallen maiden to the opening in the ceiling, towards the first stage of the eclipse possessing the vitality of energy before then being pointed directly towards the 'magick circle' and the opened gate, these next words would pierce through the first gate and make the preparations for the second gate, all the while Nakitta and Farsiris channelling their power and concentration in controlling the egregore- and repeating the conjurations/summoning after spoken by Atra'Lamia. This would be a speech of intent and respect for the ruling Lord of that dark sphere.







The First Enochian Key: "Ol sonuf vaoresaji, gohu IAD Balata, elanusaha, elanusaha caelazod: sobrazod-ol Roray i ta nazodapesad, giraa ta maelpereji, das zodien: soba tahil ginonupe pereje aladi, das vaurebes obolehe giresam. Casarem ohorela caba Pire: das zodonurenusagi cab: erem Iadanahe. Pilahe farezodem zodenurezoda adana gono Iadapiel das home-tobe: soba ipame lu ipamis: das sobolo vepe zodomeda poamal, OD zodameranu! odo cicale Qaa; zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe!"







Translation: "I reign over thee, saith the Lord of Earth, in power exalted above and below, in those whose hands the sun is a glittering sword and the moon a through-thrusting fire, who measureth your garments in the midst of my vestures, and trusseth you up as the palms of my hands, and brightened your vestments with Infernal light. I made ye a law to govern the unholy ones, and delivered a rod with wisdom supreme. You lifted your voices and swore your allegiance to Him that liveth triumphant, whose beginning is not, nor can?t end be, which shineth as a flame in the midst of your palaces and reigneth amongst you as the balance of life and death, light and darkness! Move, therefore prepare the way! Open the mysteries of creation and chaos be friendly unto this working, for I am the same as you, forged from the same fires as you! And the true daughter of the highest and ineffable..."







After the last word of the Rite of Intent/calling, after Farsiris and Nakitta had repeated it together in unison, the second key would be spoken; sword leaving the position of the firmament and now slowly spinning the patina of apex would be directed towards the Earth; sword tip touching the ground before being directed to the centre of the spinning 'magick circle' which now resembles a vortex of darkness, a tunnel of darkness reaching through the 'outer planes' and into the abyss itself. All nineteen Enochian keys would be spoken throughout the nine days and nights of this grand summoning, two for each day until the ninth night when three would be spoken, the last would open the final gate.







Second Enochian Key: " Adagita vau-pa-ahe zodonugonu fa-a-ipe salada! Vi-i-vau el! Sobame ial-pereji i-zoda-zodazod pi-adapehe casarema aberamehi ta ta-labo paracaleda qo-ta lores-el-qo turebesa ooge balatohel! Gini cahisa lusada oreri OD micalapape cahisa bia ozodonugonul lape noanu tarofe coressa tage o-quo maninu IA-I-DON. torezodu! gohe-el, zodacare eca ca-no-quoda! zodameranu micalazodo OD ozadazodame vaurelarl lape zodir IOIAD!"







Translation: "Can the wings of the winds hear your voice of wonder? O you! The Great spawn of the worms of the earth! whom the Hell fire frames in the depths of thy jaws! Whom I have prepared as cups for a wedding or as flowers regaling the chambers of lust! Stronger are your feet than the barren stone! Mightier are your voices than the manifold winds! For you become as a building such as is not, save in the mind of the All-Powerful manifestation of Evil! Arise! saith the First! Move therefore unto his servants! Show yourself in power, and make me a strong seer-of-things, for I am of Him that liveth forever!"







The sword would be placed back upon the altar, as dagger was once again taken to decapitate the body in the first stage of rigor-mortis, the last drops of slightly congealed blood dripping as the head was raised just high enough for the tongue of Atra to protrude and lick along the rough severed area, the eyes long rolled back into the skull to grant a horrific sight of white covering inverted pupils before placing the skull twixt legs and once again moving herself back into a deep chimestry induced trance which the others should surely follow, throwing her quintessence into the abyss and preparing for the second conjuration along with the third and fourth Enochian keys. These proceedings would taken the duration of one night, the next day would be spent by the working 'trinity' in deep trance and further chants, urging forth to keep the first gate opened and driving back anything which would try to manifest through it- Atra'Lamia sensed the presence of the Avatar on the material plane and that would be extremely pleasing to her senses and things were progressing nicely and to plan.











The Second Night











Much the same would progress, the same as the night before, the Black Sun now in its second quarter, and the chariot of fire midway across the inky firmament- the sacrifice from the previous night was removed and once again the altar was purified and ready for the next sacrifice to be chained in the same fashion, this one was more subdued than the first but would surely serve her purpose. Everything was the same as the night before, all three would be encouraged to come out of the tranced state and immediately begin the second conjuration/summoning. Atra once again taking dagger and raising it to the ceiling, the mitigated-light catching within that dark-blood stained blade in a heinous glimmer- as the moon dial froze in the shadow of midnight, bats blew from the eaves in a dissonant surge like omens of corruption and impending doom as the rites began beneath a star-woven sky endorsed by the flames of a smothered sun and moon.







First Movement: "Oel vavini ils, OD zacam ils, OD lrinuji-ilasa, ils gah: Zamran pujo-oonoan aspt comselh aziazor ollor; dooaip OD do-o-a-ipe Iah OD Vau, DS Adama camliax OD do-o-a-ipe Ida, Agla dasa Lot cameliatza OD asa ta obelisonuji pujo-totza OD totza salamanu OD do-o-a-ipe Ioth dasa lakob camliax, Do-bianu pire dasa adarepan totza, OD asa ta obelisonuji do vaunupeh esau totza esiasch OD do-o-a-ipe Anaphaxeton, dasa Aaron cameliatza OD asa ta ananaela OD do-o-a-ipe Zabaoth dasa Mosheh caneliatza OD tofajilo pila-zodinu asa ta kanila; OD do-o-a-ipe Asher Ehyeh Oriston, dasa Mosheh cameliatza, OD tofajilo pila-zodinu asa yolacam hami dasa vageji, dasa goholore pujo salamanu, dasa quasabe tofajilo: OD do-o-a-ipe Elion, dasa Mosheh cameliatza, OD asa oreri caelzod coresa ta as je do homil arco-odzodi caosajo OD do-o-a-ipe Adni, dasa Mosheh cameliatza OD zodamran hami caosajo, dasa quasabe dasa oreri ge-poilape: OD do-o-a-ipe Scheme Amathia, dasa Ioshua vavini, OD rore pa-aotza, vi-i tahlia Gibeon OD do-o-a-ipe alpha OD Omega."







Second Movement:  "Dasa Apollon cameliatza OD quasabe Bel OD vovina: OD do-o-a-ipe Edimu dasa nore lada oe-karini notahoa ialapereji, OD ka-ca-come do-zodilodarepe: OD do-o-a-ipe Hagios OD do-tahila Adni OD do Ishyros, Athanatos, Paraceletos OD do O Theos, Ictros, Athanatos. OD do vaunala omaoas laiada Agla, ON Tetragramatron, vavin oel OD zodacame ilasa. OD do vaunala omaoas, OD tofajilo dasa cahis do-o-a-inu lada laiada dasa apila, Ia-i-donu, Oel vavini OD larinuji-ilasa, Ilasa gahe nomiji do totza dasa goho OD asa, kasareme tofajilo toltoregi darebesa OD do balatime OD vaunupeh lada OD do zodimiidasa i asapeta busada lada mikalazodo OD ji do toltoregi jijipah asapeta otahila soba ooanoan chais ra-asa OD so-bolenu: do pereje do iala-pire-gahe otahila do pire pe-ripesol OD do ananaela iad Lansh larinuji ila oel."







Third Movement:  "Zodamran asapeta vaunala komselahe darebesa do tofajilo dasa gohoosa do emetjisa Basdathea Baldachia OD do vaunala do-o-a-inu Primeumaton, dasa Mosheh cameliatza, OD caosaji poilape OD Korah, Dathan, OD Abiram lonucacho pi-adapehe. Eka darebesa do-tofajilo ils gahe, darebesaqoaan. Niisa, ilasa: zodamran pujo-oonoan; fetahe-are-zodi; zodoreje niisa ole oanio darebesa nanaeel, gohola laiada do-bianu OD do-omepe!"







Once again the dagger's tip would be spun to shine above the intended sacrifice, gleaming as if sadistically smiling in the ominous philtre of shadow-fire. Though this time the blade would perforate straight through the screaming mouth, passed tonsils and the back of skull- a loud snap and high pitched scratch as blade hit bone and stone. Face now an avalanche of pearl and ruby wine, twisted blade to remove the tongue before extracting the brain and feeding those to the brazier flames. A chalice brought forth from the darkness by one of the Prisci to fill to the brim and partake in the crimson offering of unholy communication, chalice raised to the lips of Atra to cherish and savour such a maleficent vintage. The cloaked attendant would then glide towards Farsiris to partake and then to Nakitta- after this he would vanish back into the shadows leaving them to their archaic rites.







Both Farsiris and Nakitta would now return to programming the egregore to advance to the second gate, gathering the energies from all three and directing them into the centre of the homunculus to grant it more power, the first gate was nothing to the ones which were to follow, each growing stronger and more perilous and it would be wise to be prepared. After the third Enochian key spoken by Atra'Lamia, Farsiris and Nakitta would repeat it, but, this time as they spoke the third Atra would continue with the forth, blending them both in intricate harmonious sonorous crescendo, they would need to chant lower and Atra'Lamia a few octaves higher.







Third Enochian Key:  "Micama! goho Pe-IAD zodir com-selahe azodien biabe os-lon-dohe. norezodacahisa otahila Gigipaphe; vaunud-el-cahisa ta-pu-ime qo-mos-pelehe telocahe; qui-i-inu toltoregi chaisa i cahisaji em ozodien, dasata beregida OD torezodul! Ili e-OI balazodareji, OD sala tahilanu-os netaabe: daluga vaomesareji elonusa cape-mi-ali varoesa cala homila; cocasabe fafenu izododope, OD miinoagi de ginetaabe vaunu na-na-e-el panupire malapireji caosaji. Pilada noanu vaunalahe balata OD-vaoan. Do-o-i-ape mada: goholore, gohus, amiranu! Micama! Yehusozod ca-ca-com, OD do-o-a-inu noari micaolazoda a-ai-om. Casarameji gohia: Zodacare! Vaunigilaj! OD im-ua-mar pugo pelapeli Ananael qo-a-an."







Translation: "Behold! Saith the Dark One, I am a circle on whose hands stand the Nine Kingdoms. One at the seat of living breath, the rest are as sharp sickles, or the Horns of Death. Therein the creatures of Earth are and are not, except in mine own hands which sleep and shall rise! In the first I made ye rewards and played ye in the nine seats of government, giving unto every one of you power successively over the Nine true ages of time, so that from the highest vessels and the corners of your governments you might work my power, pouring down the fires of life and increase continually on the Earth. Thus you become the pinnacles of power and destruction. In the essence of darkness, rise up! Show yourself! Behold! His mercies flourish and his name is mighty among us. In whom we say: Move! Ascend! And apply yourself unto us the partakers of this secret and the secret wisdom in your re-creation!"







Ceremonial sword again taken as the second gates opens, creating a vortex within the already opened first gate, a paradox of worlds colliding in magickal clashing, oceans washing from tidal surge like Neptune rising beneath black waters- tormented wails and howls bursting from that moment where both planes counteract. The Demonic Lords rising from their thrones to address the disturbance upon their planes, fierce and powerful- red eyes piercing from those dark worlds and into the material; listening to those sirenous intonations and marvelling over those sleek naked forms revering that dark dedication to bring back what had for centuries been lost. The two first would not question or attempt to engage or disable those conjurations and instead take with glee the virginal sacrifices offered, tormenting those pure souls for all oblivion- then eventually fading from all sight though that decadent and iniquitous laughter would still be heard within the screams of torturous souls reaching through the gates to find salvation...the egregore consuming  those who happened to step beyond the gates; a ravenous maelstrom of combined epitome and energy, spiralling like a spectral tornado through the abyss destroying anything that dared oppose it.







The sword pointing towards the third gate, as the fourth Enochian Key was spoken, Farsiris and Nakitta still resounding the third, this time the voice of Atra would be beyond powerful- once black eyes reflected to the world the very pits of the abyss now shone resplendently with an ethereal opalesque illumination with asphodel ophidian pupils, fangs extending in massive proportion as flesh darkened taking on a more hellish appearance; the Fourth Enochian key referring to the cycling of the ages of time, booming through the vocal accentuations of the Farsiris and Nakitta.







Fourth Enochian Key: "Otahil elasadi babaje, OD dorepaha gohol: gi-cahisaje auauago coremepe peda, dasonuf vi-vau-di-vau? Casaremi oeli meapeme sobame agi coremepo carep-el casaremeji caro-o-dazodi cahisa ta el-o calaa. Torezodu nor-quasahi OD fe-caosaga bagile zodir e-na-IAD das iod apila! Do-o-a-ipe quo-A-AL, zodacare! Zodameranu obelisonugi resat-el aaf nor-mo-lapil."







Translation: "I have set my feet in the South, and have looked about me saying: Are not the thunders of increase those which reign in the second angle? Under whom I have placed those whom none hath yet numbered, but One; in whom the second beginnings of things are and waxed string, successively adding the numbers of time, and their powers doth stand at the first of the nine! In the name of Varsinax, Move! and show yourselves as pleasant sentinel, that you may praise him when among the sons of men!"







At the last of the third and forth keys, allowing the others to successfully finish speaking in turn, replacing the ceremonial sword and allowing the Prisci to throw the body of the second fallen victim into the gyrating vortex for the carnivorous ones to feast upon before coercing the egregore to move towards the third gate, closing eyes her consciousness would reach for the mind of Varsinax deep beyond the closed spheres, contacting and preparing him for the way back into the material form- the world of man would once again learn what fear is, the Age of Light would soon start to wane and once again an Age of  Darkness would preside. Stepping away from the altar and moving back into her quarter alignment if would be Nakitta's turn to take residence behind the altar and conduct the sacrificial offerings to the Third and Fourth gates and conduct the summoning/conjuration of those specific gates, leaving Farsiris to conduct the sacrifices for the fifth and sixth gates before Atra would again take ritual dominance and bring forth the seventh, eighth and ninth gates- a task that would require much strength and awareness.







These proceedings had taken the duration of yet another night, as dawn bled through the darkness to bring a new day, another spent in trance-like state searching for the other gate into the third, battling those which either attack, or attempt to enter into the material plane rendering all three quite battered and bruised, a toll already taking sway over lithe naked forms; but it would be the directive of discipline and strong will that kept them going throughout these jaded days and nights. Nakitta in her turn would speak the third conjuration allowing Atra'Lamia to conduct the fifth and sixth Enochian keys and the same applies for the next night with the forth conjuration/summoning and allowing Atra'Lamia to conduct the seventh and eighth Enochian Keys (both claiming another sacrifice for each night). Farsiris then conducting her conjuration/summoning and Atra'Lamia speaking the ninth and tenth Enochian Keys, this too would be done for two consecutive nights (fifth & sixth conjurations) leaving Atra'Lamia to conduct the last three gates and Enochian Rites, then all three would participate in the Rite of Calling allowing the Dark Lord to appear and once again walk on the material plane, resurrected from the Nine to once again lead the legions of darkness over the mortal world.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:20:37 PM
The Third Day







The course of the next two days effects would be identical to that of the commencing; except for the variation in summoning/conjuration and the Enochian Keys, it would be until the last four days that the summoning would peak at its most crucial and perilous points- the same manner of sacrificial revelation would incur, blessing the altar and the name of the Dark One in the blood of virgins- fuelling the ritualistic acts of madness and mayhem- Nakitta would lead the summoning/conjuration for these two days and Atra?Lamia speaking only the Enochian Keys in the same low sonorous tone or ancient cacophony. It would also be the hands of Nakitta which severed the lives of the next two victims granting Atra?Lamia and Farsiris the rest which after these two days they will sorely require. Just a moment?s break to concentrate and focus on what could possibly come, the mental tests of unspeakable nightmares and horrors or the disillusion of disappointments from past existences, who knew what could manifest from these darkened portals.







For these two days everything would be under Nakitta?s control, her job was to bargain with the Lords of the Third and Forth Gates, leaving Farsiris to break through the barriers of the Fifth and Sixth Gates leaving Atra?Lamia to deal with the Seventh, Eighth and Ninth possibly requiring both Nakitta and Farsiris to aid her in the last- there would be no doubt that if any trouble manifested it would be on these last three ancient gates that for a millennia had not be opened leading into the material world; the idea was simply to allow the Dark One being summoned entry whilst forcefully banishing and sending any others back into that irrevocable darkness from hence they crawled.







The eclipse now moving into its third stage, and so progressing with each passing night until the entire lands of Aoyn would be in complete darkness; this would only last for 2 days and 2 nights in full, not a permanent event and would simply be seen as the 2000 year old occurrence of the ?Black Sun?. Perhaps Nakitta would seem nervous at having such a commitment as leading these proceedings, all she would have to do is conjure the Lords she knew who governed these regions and sweet talk them, using any possible means to bargain or manipulate, a gift Atra?Lamia knew she was a master at- and then allowing those gates to open Atra?Lamia would follow with the appropriate Enochian Keys relating to those gates and the events at hand, there was nothing complex in these proceedings or at least not yet?







Fifth Enochian Key:  "Sapahe zodimii du-i-be, OD noasa ta qu-a-nis, adarocahe dorepehal caosagi OD faonutas peripesol ta-be-liore ta-be-liore. Casareme A-me-ipezodi na-zodaretahe afa; OD dalugare zodizodope zode-lida xaosaji tol-toregi; OD zod-cahisa esiasacahe El ta-vi-vau; OD iao-d tahilada das hubare pe-o-al; soba coremefa cahisa ta-a-asa fetahe-ar-ezodi OD beliora, ia-ial eda-nasa cicalesa; bagile Ge-iad I-el!"







Translation: "The mighty sounds have entered into the third angle and are becoming as seedlings of folly, smiling with contempt upon the Earth, and dwelling in the brightness of the Heavens as continual comforters to the destroyers of the self. Unto whom I fastened the pillars of gladness, the Lords of the righteous, and gave those vessels to water the earth with her creatures. They are brothers of the First and the Second, and the beginning of their own seats which are garnished with myriad ever-burning lamps, whose numbers are as the First, the ends, and the contents of time! Therefore, come ye and obey your creation. Visit us in alliance and trust. Conclude us receivers of your mysteries; for why? Our Lord and Master is the All-One!"







Sixth Enochian Key: "Gahe sa-div cahisa em, micalazoda Pil-zodinu, sobam El hareji mir babalonu OD obeloce samevelaji, dalagare malapereji ar-caosaji OD acame canale, sobola zodare fa-beliareda caosaji OD cahisa aneta-na miame ta Viv OD Da. Daresare Sol-petahe-bienu. Be-ri-ta OD zodacame ji-mi-calazodo, sob-ha-atahe tarianu luia-he OD ecarinu MADA Qu-a-a-on!"







Translation: "The spirits of the fourth angle are Nine, mighty in the trapezoid, whom the First hath formed, a torment to the wretched and a garland to the wicked; giving unto them fiery darts to vane the Earth, and Nine continual workmen whose courses visit with comfort for the Earth, and are in government and continuance as the Second and Third. Therefore, harken unto my voice! I have talked of you, and I move you in power and presence, whose works shall be screams of torment on the tongues of mankind in honor of your creation!"











The Forth Day











Again, things would progress the same as the previous day and night- Nakitta having to bargain and manipulate the Lord of the gate and push further into the next plane- then allowing Farsiris to take the lead and continue deeper into the planes. Energy would already begin taking its taxing toll upon all three, but they would not give up until everything focused upon had been accomplished?there was no room for failure.







Seventh Enochian Key: "Ra-asa isalamanu para-di-zoda oe-cari-mi aao iala-pire-gahe Qui-inu. Enai butamonu OD inoasa ni pa-ra-diala. Casaremeji ujeare cahirelanu, OD zodonace lucifatianu, caresa ta vavale-zodirenu tol-hami. Soba lonudohe OD nuame cahisa ta Da o Desa vo-ma-dea OD pi-beliare itahila rita OD niame ca-ni-quola rita! Zodacare! Zodameranu! Iecarimi Quo-a-dahe OD I-mica-ol-zododa aaiome. Bajirele papenore idalugama elonusahi-od umapelifa vau-ge-ji Bijil-IAD!"







Translation: "The East is a house of harlots singing praises among the flames of the first glory wherein the Dark Lord hath opened his mouth; and they become as living dwellings in whom the strength of man rejoiced; and they are apparelled with ornaments of brightness, such as work wonders on all creatures whose Kingdoms and continuances are as the Third and Fourth, strong towers and places of comfort, the east?s of pleasure and continuance. O ye servants of pleasure, Move! Appear! Sing praises unto the Earth and be mighty amongst us. For that to this remembrance is given power, and our strength waxeth strong in our comforter."







Eighth Enochian Key: "Bazodemelo i ta pi-ripesonu olanu Na-zodavabebe ox. Casaremeji varanu cahisa vaugeji asa berameji balatoha; goho IAD. Sobu miame tarianu ta lolacis Abaivoninu OD azodiajiere riore. Irejila cahisa da das pa-aox busada Caosago, das cahisa OD ipuranu telocahe cacureji o-isalamahe lonucaho OD Vovina carebafe? NILSO! bagile avavago gohon. NILSP! bagile mamso siaionu, OD mabezoda IAD oi-asa-momare poilape. NILASA! Zodameranu ciaosi caosago OD belioressa OD coresi ta a bermiji."







Translation: "The midday of the First is as the Third indulgence made of hyacinthine pillars, in whom the elders are becoming stronger, which I have prepared for mine own justice, saith the Dark One, whose long continuance shall be as bucklers to Leviathan. How many are those which remain in the glory of the Earth, which are, and shall not see death until the house falls and the dragon doth sink? Rejoice! For the crowns of the Temple and the robe of him that is, was, and shall be crowned are no longer divided! Come forth! Appear!, to the terror of the Earth, and to the comfort of such as are prepared."
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:22:16 PM
Resounding screams of the first victim brought struggling in halting grasps of the two Prisci members of the inner sanctum of the circle heightened her awareness of sounds within the darkness of the circle itself. The outer rims of massing people chanting and billowing the rhythm of the drums through the hall rippled in fading echoes within her mind. Cornflower blue emanated their projected gaze onto the victim of the first sacrificial gate to open the realms to the one to be revived from the darkness of death. Viewing the carnage of the victims slaughtered innocence brought her sense of smell to a different level of excited pleasure. The presence and power of Shiva seared in her a new vibration of concentration past the levels of mere conscious hums of meditative sounds, phrases of worship and tenors of vocal manipulations.







Shiva was enjoying the destruction upon the cruel level of their hostess in these rites. Farsiris focused this energy manipulating it to conserve and keep for the days ahead. This was a personal high, a reserve she could harbor when food and drink became necessary for the body to survive. Immortal she was but she was not with her own limits as most immortals have in one form or another. Violence, cruelty and passion for the evil inherent in these rites drove a personality of Shiva she rarely felt or had the pleasure of seeing. It exhilarated her inside and out, bring the slightest flush to her cheeks as she continued to watch memorizing the lines spoken first by her hostess then by herself and the counterpart of Nakitta.  The words formed without effort and poured from the ruby lips in the intonations, mirroring her hostess by only a small octave lower.  The tenor of her voice a low quality produced from centuries of work in temples across the valleys and hills of what she could only assume was her homeland. That voice stretched between realms as well. Now it was stretched in octaves just below her hostess's prime passionate tones and the masses of people repeating the voiced standards of movements and keys.







She was an expert in leading such masses into the intricate intonations and tenor of a specific voice used to heighten awareness and power to culminating point of release. The system of gathering, heightening and the awareness of these things did take there toll, but it was a part of her training for such years before the great Triad of Gods blessed her with gifts beyond what any normal mortal could grasp or hope in attaining. The silken material rippled with the power she was gaining in such states of gathering, storing and releasing it into the hands of her hostess or the counterpart of the circle, Nakitta.







When a gate opened she found in her duties a list of necessary wards to guard against the low level of creatures and spirits fighting to gain a foothold in this world that was not meant for them any longer. The long shroud winding around her wrist held tightly coiled and squeezed like the grip of a snake against its' victim. This tightness and pain only furthered her efforts to keep those at bay and supply Atra with the necessary power needed to keep the rite going further into the depths of these destructive realms. Hands, palm up, curled into points of her fingernails sent the pain and purity of lightening through those who dared step into the portal's swirling mass breaking through to the material plane they were on. Each muscle tensed and recoiled against the strikes she received in the line of this battlement of opening the gates and freeing them of creatures before the seal was place within the circle.







A vicious driver she was for those behind her. She gave the lash to each of them to provide the strength in their own tiny realm of the circle Each stroke of the lashe was a powerful and rhythmic tug  she crashed through to the brains, heart or vision of a creature to trespass within these realms. Ignoring the small grunts of pain from those behind her, who faltered in their own intonated phrases to keep her supplied with the need and strength to defend this trespassing portal to the next gate and realm leading away from the material plane. Greedy for more by the end when the seal of the gate was opened she tugged upon this invisible layer of stored strength in menial acolytes of this temple. This was what they were here for and those who died or fainted from their duties would no doubt be replaced from the ranks waiting amongst the temple halls ready to supply the carnage ensuing from delicate and powerful hands. Her efforts with this, left Nakitta?s work to be done in dealing with the various lords of realms and gates of power. It would be her turn to do such things when the time came.







As the efforts of the first day were completed and portal sealed from all others, providing the last step of the path for the one they were reviving from such dark depths, She pivoted slightly moving her gaze among the ranks that were still standing. Coiling a series of searching tendrils among the ranks to those who survived with an efficent eloquence. A delicate hand, bruised and ashen with the force of lightening, curled around into a pointed finger choosing among the strongest that survived this first night. 8 among those masses were chosen simply for their talents in storing power within their tenor and voice. She directed them into a half-moon shape behind her and well within stepping distance of the shroud but not touching distance. These were the ones she would use to store a greater amount of the next night and the next, should one die of exhaustion she would only replace them the next coming day when preparations and power were gathered again.







Facing back to the inner sanctum of the circle she began the light chant for these eight to follow. The masses behind would naturally follow the meditations of the rest in accordance with her hostess, Atra. She began low; humming and making the sound reverberate from the inner part of her brain where her spine met with her head. The sound vibrated its power through her body. The following words were repeated slowly as the first trials of this forum of individuals were made and used for the express purpose of storing power and generating it beyond the others behind them. They were link and the strongest to survive these days.







GOBINDE, MUKUNDE, UDARE, APARE, HARING, KARING, NIRNAME, AKAME



Translation: Sustainer, liberator, enlightener, infinite, destroyer, creator, nameless, desireles







At the end of the second repition, when she was sure the eight of the hooded figures were mirroring her tenor, her intonated words picked up the speed to a normal level of understanding and blurring. They followed with out question making her shiver with the power the nine of them, including her, created in the small fulcrum within the larger circle of her hostess. Dropping her hands slightly she left her fingers wide to collect and store the energies in a balance between all of them. They were a small container for the temporary use of storing the needed power and energies that would be released unto the hostess during the next night that followed much the same as the first with an increasing sensitivity in her towards the presence of Shiva?s great power.The blood of the next sacrifice chilled her and excited her to no end. Shiva's presence within her was nearly giddy with the tempting taste of blood, pure in it's essence of life.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:24:53 PM
Having the first consecutive days run smoothly, hours of chanting and incantations without so much as a break or pause; the first fours gates now unlocked after the tedious hours toiling with the abysmal Lords and those dwelling into the furthest darkest corners, all were now sated with the offering of virgin souls and blood. Now things were moving into the sixth night of arcane practises- this would not be spent with hours of summoning and incantations, though of course the Enochian Keys would be spoken, but this night would be spent in full focus of the nights that lay ahead- the final three nights that would have the Dark One back on the material plane in all his dark majestic glory- to once again spread the shadows across a world long begot of darkness. Perhaps a futile attempt to restore what could possibly be considered "balance" or was the aim far more profound than restoring equilibrium amongst the ignorant and arrogant; some veils are hard to remove when the eyes have grown accustomed to a false world. Did it make sense in the minds of the prodigies and enigma's- why were such extremes being cast into the winds, when one could so easily pluck the ideal from the clutches of the outer worlds, tearing asunder the heavens and hells to achieve this one goal, since none ever have ever been asked or summoned aloud for all the world to hear...the coming of their demise.







Each night at the same chime of thirteen, beneath the tilt of the firmament zodiac as constellations danced around the Temple spires; stars falling from the heavens like fiery libertines of ancient boons scolded in the cauldrons flames of oracles and harbingers of doom, each twinkling flame colliding against the Hyperion of coal, burning to cinders and cinders to dust- a maidens soul was offered, that light diminishing from this world, much like those falling stars, so radiant until that spark was no more. Snuffed prey, throats and navels severed to offer those crimson accolades to appease and tempt- nothing more than peace offerings of the once chaste and in their thrones of tainted glory would become the damned and the wretched; engorged, crimson flux through lips agape in horror...ritualistic appetite whetted as the storms of misanthropy demanded more...more...more! The blurred edges of reason far lost in this entranced world of mayhem and insanity- viciously, maliciously, religiously the shadows wheeled and whirled, dancing in the madness of the energy raised from the pits of pandemonium to the borders of reality or the narcissistic unrest frozen in those dead eyes.







The evenings enthralled, reeking pyres of burning flesh fuming the wintry night air, as ebony fumigations, welcoming the essence and reincarnation of darkness back into the world of man, such glory- such nefarious deeds to relish for all years to come, knowing that there was none who stood opposing and none who could prevent the events from unfurling, even know the seventh gate was slowly opening its ravenous maws to allow the goliath egregore to enter; the words of each summoning spoken coherently and articulately for all to bear witness to these events...beyond the pages of any written grimoire or scroll- using the adept knowledge of Farsiris and the knowledge of Nakitta- the next two nights would be reason for celebration and the pride of achieving something all other Priestesses and Priests in Aoyn  and Ayen had failed to do...but what could one expect from such neophytes?







Every incantation and summoning all now seemed to blur into the next, echoes resounding and reverberating to create continuous sound, the levels of energy were far beyond the explainable or predictable,  enraptured and entranced in complete synopsis, psionics weaving to twine the spiritual, the ethereal and material now merging as the final barriers of thin veil began to slow give, tearing at the seems like the hymen of a ruptured Goddess finally uniting with that of her consort; a birth of worlds...the birth of a God into that of mortal appearance, to walk among man effectively and work his ways of manipulation and fear into the hearts of the human race. Surely by now he would have learnt, felt the vibrant magnetic embrace pulling him back towards the material plane, the energies whirling around him speaking his very name in archaic tongues- pleasuring the flesh in decadent embraces, every touch and rake against flesh informing him that the time approaches, and he should be prepared to enter the world where had been abolished. There was no better time than now, everything snapped so perfectly into place- the planetary alignments, the signalling of the fiery firmament as the chariot raced across the sky leaving a trail of fire and ice, the rumbling beneath the earth to show the chthonian gates grew restless, thousands of hordes pushing against the bonds to be released.







Evil destroying evil and seemingly forgetting its purpose in the grand scheme of things; always fighting over the table scraps when a greater prize awaited just within their grasp, but too busy fighting like mongrel dogs over a small piece of land or some fancy flavour of the moment- evil had reduced itself to petty lusts of flesh and material objects, perhaps now they would be shown the way or crushed beneath the boot heels of marching legions. A perfect picture to say the least....but still some shades and clarifications were missing, incomplete- this Grand Summoning was only the first step, there were many left to make, but the advancement would surely be met with a few "minor" complications and maybe some really spine-tingling major complications, all is fair in the art of war. With the depletion of energy, strangely enough Atra'Lamia felt a profound rush and surge of new energy from a source obscure from her vision. perhaps if concentration was not fully placed upon the summoning, she would have known it was Kain and the other outburst of revolutionary violence occurring within Tenaria and even the outskirts of the conjoining realms, Rhydin and Zoir without so much as an injection from those who proclaim to be of the virtuous and righteous, perhaps they were not concerned with the absently mindless slaughter of hundreds of people, some even graciously giving their lives in the brunt of the mayhem; rapes, murders, suicides- all those lost, decadent souls came flooding to the Temple and the occupants within, and the provocation of keeping all those gates open while souls were being sucked into the massive vortexes- all were sated.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:27:14 PM
Exhaustion could be ignored. Pain could be forgotten and the sounds of the masses could only consume her in the fire of the passionate and embracing energies. The rites of summoning continued well beyond what she herself could explain in mere words. Temptation came on many different levels and angles of corruption, darkness and the pureness of evil. Balance was the need she assumed to bring such a god into the mortal world. It was not her place to question the will of Shiva in her encouraged presence within these rites; she was immortal by their graces alone surviving beyond ages. Another night blurred from the next and the next. She waited through the nights following as she should her hostess or her counterpart, Nakitta. At last, it was her turn to forge alliances and bride the lords for that night. But first it was tim to prepare for such a gathering of her own power. The first thing was to turn and survey her section of the choir among the masses of her Hostess?s chosen Pricsi members left to her guidance and care, if it could be called that. She surveyed the bodies being dragged away from her inner Sanctum of Intonating chanters. Some were blackened and bruised beyond repair. Others were as pale as the deathly corpses of the innocent victims that fell prey to Atra?s need for their purity. Remorse was only a twinge inside her as she thanked them silently for their bodies, mind, hearts and energies given to the cause of this summoning. However, small prayer she gave them there was the next night to be considered and focused upon.







They were only two left standing as it came to be her turn in the night?s proceedings. Only two had survived the long nights they had started within her inner circle of ?energy warriors?. Pale cheeks fluttered into the semblance of an exhausted smile granting them a small reward for their deeds to contending with her level of greed for power. Delicately and gingerly to a fault to still the shakiness of pain rebelling to show in her body her hands moved forward stretching her arms out to both of them. She gave a small signal, bringing out stretched blackened hands palms up then meeting in a downward motion, to have them come forward and together just behind her. She was now about to create a third level of her inner circle of collected power. When their robes fluttered with her command she moved a stern stare to the grouped masses behind them facing always towards the middle of rites. Here she again chose nine members of strength and will. These would fuel the two who had already survived. These nine individuals would find a task master in their fellow followers. She would need the strength they would give to the two who would be granted another boon should they survive through to the completion of this summoning.







Pivoting again on her heel, she began again slowly hearing the harmony of the pair behind her immediately mingle with her own voice to near perfection of tones and complimenting voices. The nine behind them faltered and moved into their own unique positions of harmony through the first two rounds.







GOBINDE, MUKUNDE, UDARE, APARE, HARING, KARING, NIRNAME, AKAME



Translation: Sustainer, liberator, enlightener, infinite, destroyer, creator, nameless, desireles







Thus it began again, the triplicate circle she created just for her own use in a conduit between the masses, herself and then directly to Atra when the Keys were spoken. Intricate detail and precision was necessary for her gates. Helping Nakitta with hers as well, keeping the lords distracted or fending off the lower levels of creatures who wished a foothold in this world and onto not just her body but also that of her hostess?s and counterpart?s, Nakitta. Tonight would be her first gate the next her second and then her her last; bribing would ensue and pleading distraction would be in place for the finale of Atra?s last gate to open the path that would lead her dark lord and god back to this mortal realm. Shiva grew in power within her as a dormant rise of giddy pleasure in the blood of innocent victims and the senseless destruction rippling out from the epicenter of the vortex. Shiva supplied her with the necessary force to continue despite her bruised and batter body. Fingertips were too sore to be felt and her knees weakened by the hours of standing through the night. These were physical limitations taught ages ago to be overlook, ignored and demanded to submit to her need and want of meditative visions of power and immortality. No this was just a mortal husk of a shell in immortal stretches to mirror the goddess she would always be to those in need of a guiding light to follow into the depths of even hell or heaven itself. When seated among the days of rest and recoil into inner collections of strength and will she wrapped the silken shroud around her shoulders. This silken mass of material was to be the ?Summons-ed? mortal transformation from an ethereal being into corporeal masses; a god in a mortal shell, immortal made by his nature alone.







 She sighed on an the last intonation and rose from her seat hands unclasped for the intricate patterns she would weave in charming sentences and abstract designs for these great lords of the under world who keep keys to these gates of corruption and evil. The silken blue shimmering to almost a translucent effect uncoiled from around her sliding in caressing tones of nailsso achingly similar to Shiva?s very essence of touch within her. She needed no guidance from Shiva, nor prompting from Atra. She began closing her eyes and tugging with force on the two behind her in turn tugged on the nine and the nine to the masses behind them; a chain reaction of dominoes in constant unnatural swaying forward and back through clenching and exhaustive grunts. She ignored them as the two ignored the others behind them. They served and they gave as she wished, more that she had ever hoped for in such strength.







Dividing her attentions she projected forth the image of herself naked and filled with a tempting innocent structure to a corruption of the lord of the gate. Distraction first was her motto here as she penetrated the veil long enough for Atra to begin her Rites to open and appease the gaurdians she was standing before. It was only a projection that she manifested among these lords giving them a show to watch rather than the reality of the trespassers behind her. When it was too late and the Lord of those gates gave in and she smiled waving and conducting a glorious bow showing off the delicate and ethereal lines of her spirit projections to further give them the satisfaction of seeing such innocence plied to corrupted means. It was a slight thrill and a boon given to them for the lifting of boredom in a tedious carrer of guarding these dimensional gates. Half of said attention was also given to protect herself and others from the demanding and desperate creatures planning to set forth in this world. They were all met as the same before them. A Flashes of purity in the destructive form of the jagged smears of lightening crossing the threshold of the vortex and down to meet them to their doom or atleast a bruising of demonic egos. She did these task well with respect and an undimished set of energies for pain can be forgotten and exhaustion can be ignored.







The next and final gates under her responsibility went much the same way as the first; gathering, projectiong and protecting that which was the conduit of the great god to enter the world again. She dare not look behind her to see if the pair who survived the first days did indeed survive these days under her greedy hands for the energies to be divided among two very important tasks. When Atra had finsihed the last mvoement of the keys to the this final gate in her responsibility she stepped forward only slightly into the circle and at the edge of the vortex. Cautious and careful the silken shroud alive with its own energies moved and uncoiled, relaxing like a snake on the desert sands to bask in the rays of a beauitful and warming sun. One end still clutched in a death grip around her wrist concealing the markers of her changling race along her wrist and arm.The other end drifted and swayed forward slightering from its coiled dormancy where she once stood.







This would be her contribution, unique in its gift to the lord traversing death, time and mortality. It was a shroud directed with his energies alone, stolen in tid bits of his presence and awareness of these rites. Copied and recieved into the threads counted and woven to inricate softness and transluscent textures. Standing as the woven and pleated material made its way to the edge of the vortex and out beyond to the epicenter of the already summoned and sealed gates. The excess coiled their in readiness to strike forward another path to follow for the great god and lord of her hostess. Descending to her knees one arm stretched to its length slightly beyond the edge of the vortex, tugging at her in an anxious need to strike a path through the vortex to the furthest sealed gate and to await the last and final ones. Her fllares lifted in ripples and fluttered from the natural breezes made by the swirling seals and cyclones of gates as she began lightly at first drawing strength in body and mind from those she had gathered behind her.







    Om trayambakam yajaamahe



    Sugandhim pushti - vardhanam



    Urva - rukamiva bandhanan



    Mrytor muksheeya ma - amritaat







     Bless him who is summoned with the Breath of Life



     Blessed Shiva give your gift of Immortality



     May he be worthy of your gift that I send the shroud for him. O Shiva Great Lord Bless



                him with your caressing rebirth!







Translation From above=Om. We worship the Three-Eyed One (Lord Shiva), who is naturally fragrant, immensely merciful and who is the Protector of the devotees. Worshipping Him may we be liberated from death for the sake of immortality just as the ripe cucumber easily separates itself from the binding stalk.  By your Grace, Let me be in the state of salvation (Moksha) and be saved from the clutches of fearful death.







The coil of electrified material shot forth through the gates to create the life line the god would need from a ethereal body to corporeal reality. The line held on to her wrist her fingers deliberately wrapping under and around in an exta coil around her wrist before blacked hands and nails gripped onto the fabric that began to stretch beyond its length. The pleats stretched and thinned to impossible means, in a rope that would draw forth and wrap around the 'Summoned' giving him a cocoon and a life line from his exiled world to this one. Fangs of electrified material moved with swiftness of speed angry at all who trespassed in its way. She braced herself as the coiled mass of extra material lost its store in the middle of vortex hovering ontop. She stepped back to her place as she yanked on the cloth once it got to the last gate she had opened. It halted echoing the vibrating recoil of anger, like the strings of a piano snapping from their tighten positions. It did not enjoy being held back from its goal but she did it to keep the material in tact and away from the creatures bound to erupt from the next gate. Involuntary she flinched as the coiled end around her wrist tightened even more cutting off circulating life blood and brusiing already tender flesh. She ignored the pain and kept regin on the leash that wished to meet its goal. However, there was one last gate to contend with and she would hold this precious gift of hers, of Shiva's, at bay in the protection of the previous seals.







When the last gate opened it would flourish forward to the outstretched hand of the 'Summoned One' giving him support and a rope to climb from his exile. The other  hand would no doubt be Atra's spiritual and guiding hand to guide him forth through the vortex she started and they all help creat to this depth. As he rose through the gates the sliken shroud would wind around his ankles and feet first, coiling the excess around him and craddling him in Shiva's great embrace of rebirth knitting ethereal flesh to corporeal form. Farsiris would keep ahold of the other end always the life line to this world as this god's great steps came up in huge strides between the seals. Once at the top he would be concealed for but a moment by the wraps of the shroud working to created the mortal husk that would house the immortal body within. When every last hair, feature and color was in place Farsiris's hand would casually flip the material as if it were mere a whip uncoiling the mass of material from his body and rendering the material back to its normal function as the material of a robe or dress. The flourish of the light blue material would be yanked back and then fall from her grip to the floor around the feet of her two energy warriors behind her. Her wrist, hand and lower arm would bare the mark of bruising and small lacerations made by the pleats in the material. However, a small amount of pain was a small price ot pay to bring life again to the dead. As he stood before Atra, her hostess, she would bow softly in exhaustion and whisper in reverence,







"May great Shiva bless your days again... Forever and Always."







Gracefully, her lithe body bent at the waist would rise to a vertical position again but not for long. Exhaustion can be ingnored only for so long when the body is denied the rest it needs to survive the mental toils of meditation and release. Her great 'energy warriors", still sruviving unbe-knownest to her in her focused duties rushed forward grasping her body with careful and respectful hands before a bare inch of her fell to the floor. One lifted her in a cherished craddled with his arms and the other wrapping the pale blue material around her lithe pale, cool and nude form. Groggy and exhausted she allowed them to take her gingerly into their care. Farsiris' cheek, clamy to the touch, pressed to the shoulder as they held her in wait of being dismissed. Farsiris' half closed eye-lids fluttered fighting in vain to stay awake to this world for a moment longer, "Forgive..me..."Her words would be barely heard in her effort to appologize for her display of weakness. The Trio would make an interesting display of perhaps preversion for she was only the vision of a 16 year old girl just developing into her prime of figure and body and they perhaps a vision of virility and masculine strength. She was of course much older but the scene still remained and perhaps to the delight of those who were now all present in these temple surroundings. She was a vision of innocent, exhausted yes, but her evil deeds done in participating in these rites showed her corruption within her heart and her experience in the world proved her purity only in heart and not in body.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:31:41 PM
Much progression was nice, everything fitted so perfectly in the decadent synchronizations of Farsiris and Atra?Lamia; Nakitta had long felt the drain of energy and had left the temple to gather her facilities if not partake in a moment of fresh air; a break from the stagnant energies and smothering grasps of the nefarious dealings at hand. Nakitta has successfully opened the Gates required of her. Her skills had far surpassed that of what Atra had taught her, so that would be slightly pleasing- Farsiris and Atra were more than equipped to handle the last few Gates, regardless of what tried to leave the pulsating darkness that now bleed into the material world like a ravenous wound to feed the leeches who have longed drained its precious resources.







The energies swirled, creating a giant vortex to the centre of the gyrating mass, collision upon collision as the outer perimeter spun anti-clockwise and the inner mass clockwise; both intricately working like a clockwork key mechanism in which to not only open the doors of time, but worlds themselves- each merging with the next creating that monolithical tunnel effect. Turning the hands of time, so deftly in that oiled lock- rifts created now washing against the mortal shores like massive tides crashing upon jagged cliff rocks; the very sound rupturing the perfect synchronization of chanting and spellbound rhythm?the ritual drum beat lower in a profound pound resembling that of some mythical beast or barbarian hordes proceeding to war; each tone heightening betwixt that of primitive reverberation, connecting those who listen with the darker aspects of their souls; causing them to slip deeper into that primordial breath. With the escalating atmosphere, another sacrifice was led into the room; this time an extremely fair youthful maiden, barely plucked from the field of rare flowers, such a beauteous orchid to tease with the tip of the dagger blade. To cause such crimson ribbons to delicately entwine those milky limbs and embrace her within the tenebrous arms of oblivion- such a perfect tryst for death and litany.







Watching that delicate flower struggle against the oncoming storm, swaying as the clatter of chains blended with the audible accentuations of mayhem and demonic proposals; she too would soon become a bride of death and deterioration, nothing but an empty husk in which for the carnivorous worms to copulate and breed- leaving nothing but the waning memory on the heart of her bereaved loved ones. Oh how the heart bleeds when one is succumb to such feeble weaknesses; amazing how the flesh gives itself to that of another, to encyst the empyreal with the heavenly bliss of emotion- allowing oneself to frolic in the fairyland created by a foolish society?now perhaps the world was not so safe, slumbering away safely in their beds of hay and downing- sleeping on beds of disease, though, of course not those already surrendering to the carnal sins and temptations. Feeding the sinful lusts of the oncoming tide, as darkness fluctuates, sweeping across the realm like ebony wings, raking the senses and fuelling the inner hatred and wrath that all humans possess-  making the way for a new?dark order about to release its talons deep into the flesh of a false utopia.







Forcefully laying that sweet flower upon the altar, draping her over it like a bouquet of heaven?s scent, so innocent, so blissfully pure of all the filth of this world- screams drowning out the brooding melancholy harmony of sinister choirs echoing through the massive halls; screams in soprano creating such treasured vibrations to the ears of Atra?Lamia as she looked down upon the child with a feigned look of sympathy, though only for the burlesque of her own twisted amusement, a glint of hope in those black malignant eyes as if listening to the pleas and begging for mercy. That dulcet harmony resembling the lamentation of an angel falling while the others look down upon from the lofty heights of a moonlit sky as tears streamed, turning to shimmering diamonds that amalgamate with the stars- ?The Mourning Song? of angelic prose, a requiem for the hearts of Gods as they watch on in sick compromise; nothing but pawns to master and then discard when the Queen is in their sights. But this screaming swan would be greeted well by the ravenous jaws of the Abyss as the dagger held in tight grip came hurling towards its target, the heart- the rose of the soul, the trove of life being perforated and torn from cavity?crimson rain spurting from the fountain of sustenance?all in the honor of this dark malevolent Lord smiling from the ebony veils of the arcane mirror in rapture for such debauched reverence. At this very act, the tenth and eleventh Enochian key would resound, purging all the vibrational harmonies into nothing but a droned blur. Powerful intonations ringing through the darkness, which the conviction that could tear worlds asunder just merely because she willed it; energy at this point no longer depleted, in fact it grew from the providing of an outside source, though at this point all signs pointed to one individual, the only one who knew her name and had spoken it aloud, soaring within the talons of tempestuous winds and hurling them upon the night-tide shore? ?Ankhnesmerira!?







The Tenth Enochian Key: "Coraxo cahisa coremepe, OD belanusa Lucala azodiazodore paebe Soba iisononu cahisa uirequo ope copehanu OD racalire massi bajile coasagi; das yalaponu dosiji OD basajime; OD ox ex dazodisa siatarisa cynuxire faboanu. Vaunala cahisa conusata das doax coacasa ol Oanio yore vohima ol jizod-yazoda OD eoresa cocasaji pelosi mohin das pajeipe, laraji same darolanu matorebe, cocasaji emena. El pataralaxa yolaci matabe nomiji mononusa olora jinayo anujelareda. Ohyo! ohyo! noibe Ohyo! caosagonu! Bajile madarida i zodirope cahisa darisapa! NILSO! caripe ipe nidali!"







Translation: "The thunders of wrath doth slumber in the North, in the likeness of an oak whose branches are dung-filled nests of lamentation and weeping laid up for the Earth, which burn night and day and vomit out the heads of scorpions and live sulphur mingled with poison. These are the thunders that in an instant roar with a hundred mighty earthquakes and a thousand as many surges, which rest not, nor know any time here. One rock bringeth forth a thousand, even as the heart of man doth his thoughts. Woe! Woe! Yea! Woe be; to the Earth, for her iniquity is, was, and shall be great. Come away! But not your mighty sounds!"







How the elements smashed together, thundering echoing throughout the lands as the gargantuan orifice opened to great the stars, the nine gates of the Kingdom of Shadows all but a few vital incantations away- life given to sustain his within the mortal world and soon the ultimate sacrifice given; the sacrificial lamb, bleating from the darkness in a dissonant pitch- this would be the bringer of the Dark One as the last drop of blood would fall from the fractured cranium creating a mock chalice in which would adorn his lips and grant the vitality to match a thousand men or devils. A gift, a remembrance of those bleak days when the darkness bled the daylight from every eye as far as every quarter of the globe, when death and destruction charred the sky in ebony wreathes of smoke, the boons of death- as cities died and plague blistered on the faces of man, woman and child, none were spared, and nor would any be spared now.







The motion now moved into the eleventh Enochian key, merging with the low monotonous sounds of chimestry and incantations as the next two gates would be breached, opening to make way for the last- the goal of this Grand Summoning only moments away as the next three Enochian Keys would be sung. The sirenous chords striking perfect rhythmic influences, rolling upon serpentine tongue only to ascend to the spires in a wail of discord and abhorrence, for a world that was so disgustingly polluted by the virtues of cretins and peasants, nothing more.







The Eleventh Enochian Key:  "Oxiayala holado, OD zodirome O coraxo das zodiladare raasyo. OD vabezodire cameliaxa OD bahala: NILSO! salamanu i ga. NILSA! bagile aberameji nonucape. Zodacare eca OD Zodameranu! odo cicale Qaal Zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe!"







Translation: ?The mighty throne growled and there were five thunders that flew into the East. And the eagle spake and cried aloud: Come away from the house of death! And they gathered themselves together and became those of whom it measured, and they are deathless ones who ride the whirlwinds. Come away! For I have prepared a place for you. Move therefore, and show yourself! Unveil the mysteries of your creation. Remember thee, for I am just like you, the true essence of darkness incarnate to flesh."







With the workings of Farsiris, Atra was comfortable having her work the next two nights , opening those doors and dimensions as easily as expected, and just as artistically and skilled reputed for- nothing surprised Atra?Lamia where Farsiris was concerned, and all Atra could do was watch her proceedings with a sense of pride and honor, never had one worked so adeptly and easily alongside Atra?in all these lifetimes none matched this willowy woman standing before her manipulating the elements as easily, as if they were nothing but the tools in which to exhume power and focus, which in any case, they were just that. Intricately, everything was smooth, running in perfect time and no delay made, all Atra would do is recite the keys at the appropriate moment and allow Farsiris to complete the rest. It seemed if her energy depleted, so Atra would conduct as much as she was able to help sustain Farsiris as well, so her resources would not be drained in these last proceedings as the Enochian Keys continued, synchronizing with Farsiris summoning/incantations. The next five proceedings in which to bring forth the next gate and call the Dark One through the spinning vortex that now awaited.







The Twelfth Enochian Key: "Nonuci dasonuf Babaje OD cahisa ob hubaio tibibipe? alalare ataraahe OD ef! Darix fafenu mianu ar Enayo ovof! Soba dooainu aai i VONUPEHE. Zodarare, gohusa, OD Zodameranu. odo cicale Qaa! Zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe!"







Translation: "O ye that range in the South and are the lanterns of sorrow buckle your armour and visit us! Bring forth the legions of the armies of Hell, that the Lord of the Abyss may be magnified, whose name amongst ye is Wrath! Move therefore, and appear! Open the mysteries of your creation! Remember thee, for I am the same- the true essence of darkness incarnate to the flesh and of the highest ineffable Lords of Hell!"







The Thirteenth Enochian Key: "Napeai Babajehe das berinu vex ooaona larinuji vonupehe doalime: coisa olalogi oresaha afefa. Micama isaro Mada OD Lonu-sahi-toxa, das ivaumeda aai Jirosabe. Zodacare OD zodameranu. odo cicale Qaa! Zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe!"







Translation: ?O ye swords of the South, which have eyes to stir up the wrath of sin, making men drunken which are empty; Behold! The promise of darkness and the power, which is called amongst ye a bitter sting! Move and appear! Unveil the mysteries of your creation! Remember me for I am the same- the true essence of darkness incarnate to flesh, the highest ineffable Lords of Hell!"







The Fourteenth Enochian Key: " Noroni bajihie pasahasa Oiada! das tarinuta mireca ol tahila dodasa tolahame caosago hiomida: das berinu orocahe quare: Micama! Bial! Oiad; aisaro toxa ivame aai Balatima. Zodacare OD Zodameranu! OD cicale Qaa! Zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe!"







Translation: ?O ye sons and daughters of mildewed minds, that sit in judgment of the iniquities wrought upon me- Behold! The voice of the mighty ones, the Ancients that predominate creation; the promise of Him who is called amongst ye the accuser and supreme tribune! Move therefore, and appear! Open the mysteries of your creation! Remember me for I am the same- the true essence of darkness incarnate to flesh, the highest ineffable Lords of Hell!"







The Fifteenth Enochian Key: "Ilasa! tabaanu Ii-El pereta, casaremanu upaahi cahisa dareji; das oado caosaji oresacore: das omaxa monasaci Baeouibe OD emetajisa Iaiadix Zodacare OD Zodameranu! Odo cicale Qaa. Zodareje lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe!"







Translation: " O thou, the governor of the first flame, under whose wings are the spinners of cobwebs that weave the earth with dryness; that knowest the great name "righteousness" and the seal of false honor. Move therefore, and appear! Open the mysteries of your creation! Remember me for I am the same- the true essence of darkness incarnate to flesh, the highest ineffable Lords of Hell!"







The Sixteenth Enochian Key:  "Ilasa viviala pereta! Salamanu balata, das acaro odazomdi busada, OD belioraxa balita: das inusi caosaji lusadanu emoda: das ome OD taliobe: darilapa iehe Mada Zodilodarepe. Zodacare OD Zodameranu. Odo cicale Qaa: zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe!"







Translation: "O thou second flame, the house of justice, which hast thy beginnings in glory and shalt comfort the just: which walketh upon the Earth with feet of fire; which understands and separates creatures! Great art thou, stand forth and conquer. Move therefore, and appear! Open the mysteries of your creation! Remember me for I am the same- the true essence of darkness incarnate to flesh, the highest ineffable Lords of Hell!"







Through the ritual ushered by Farsiris, the next day would be spent in the same as every other day, building the energy up in a crescendo, like a cone, feeding the egregore with each passing day until it was an actual mass of living energy conglomerated into the form of a squamous mass, shapeless but existing nonetheless- and would be the reflecting focus should anything attack on the sly; it would also work as the filter for anything malignant aimed at the two, acting as a barrier in which to filter, absorb and reflect- anything fed into it would only increase its velocity and power?.appearing like nothing more than a fiery maelstrom, though of course is was much more, so much more than what any would expect. This was the last day, and the last evening, the land of Tenaria and that of Aoyn completely shrouded in darkness from the influence of the ?Black Sun?, the last quarter of light now asphyxiated behind the circulus of dark, beaming in universal protest at the revolution scourging the realms?.this was the moment of truth, when the darkness was reborn and hurled back into the world with an unmatched vengeance.  
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:34:03 PM
"If you do not open the gate that I may pass, I shall burst it from its very hinges rendering nothing but an open void, the threshold smashed so that none may distinguish the boundaries. I shall make the dead rise and they will out number the living- all this....on your hands simply for the stubbornness of not allowing all but one to leave."







Those very words spoken forebodingly, daring any to try and prevent her very wishes being met; the Bairion?s, derived from the 4th evil- their dull red and black bodies glistening in the infernal Hyperion, silhouetted against the conflagrations of the 7th hell?their large bodies rippling with muscular paroxysm urging for the kill, to render their jaws upon those lustful bodies and perhaps even Atra?Lamia herself?the Dragon-Lions sat upon their haunches, hot saliva dripping from elongated canines as they bowed in submission before the 7th gate, allowing the maelstrom egregore to pass through the living gates of tormented souls reaching for salvation but only discovering further torments and agonies- a thousand years of inflicting humiliation and suffering.







Within the Temple, fires kindled in the hollow belly of the governing idol, lighting up what had moments before been in complete darkness- the very symbolism of the "recognized" Dark deities of Aoyn and Tenaria. Into the burning fires, the dark Priests of nine in single file carrying the infants of Aoyn's most dominant nine clans; each would be thrown into the flames- their screams and infantile wails drowning the Temple, tantalizing the keepers of the last three gates to open, it would be the last three virginal victims that would be given not in soul, but in flesh- nothing stimulated those three Lords more than raping women and then consuming their bodies afterwards- the last three maidens were the most beautiful and the worthy prize for simply one coerced favour, to allow the spirit of Varsinax to leave, and appear as whole in the material world, unrestrained bearing all the powers he had before his demise and the powers granted upon his ascension into godhood; he would still yield that power.







The only reason why Atra had the influence to open the last three gates, and why the three governing Princes would even contemplate that request was simply because of who she was, the product of Lucifer and Lilith in all their unholy majestic glory and the rightful heir of the Infernal throne; though she would very much prefer to remain on the material and work her sinister influences there and with more productive results, allowing her own hands to be involved in the fall of worlds and civilizations than sitting upon a throne watching; and her influence had only just begun to reek its havoc ever so subtly- allowing those ephemeral tendrils to slow wind around an unsuspecting world- and now it would not only reckon with her, but also Varsinax as well....and not to mention Ulyssiask and Thibor, and the legions of Undead and angels at her disposal; the use of darkness and light woven together to form a new force in which to be reckoned with.







Conjuration: OSURMY + DELMUSAN + ATALSLOYM + CHARUSHOA + MELANY + LIAMINTHO + COLEHON + PARON + MADOIN + MERLOY + BULERATOR + DONMEDO + HONE + PELOYM + IBASIL + MEON + ALYMDRICTELS + PERSON + CRISOLSAY + LEMONE SESSLE NIDAR HORIEL PEUNT + HALMON + ASOPHIEL + ILNOSTREON + BANIEL + VERMIAS + SLEVOR + NOELMA DORSAMOT + LHAVALA + OMOR + FRAMGAM BELDOR + DRAGIN + Come, Varsinax







Those very words sung through the Temple, the resonation entwining with the cacophony of screaming infants  thrown to the fire like small lumps of wood, to feed those flames and the evil desires of those serving to prevent entrance of leave from the last two gates.  But this would not prevent this determined and most stubborn monarch, and she would work every influence to her advantage even if it meant actually banishing anything that stood to oppose her. The egregore pushed forth, and so did her energies- urging that massive ball of energy deeper, assailing it upon the 8th gate as if she was a force to be reckoned with and that simply the Lord of the gate would be looked upon as nothing more than a servant. The intoxication of burning flesh and the scream from the maiden serving every sexual whim of the 7th Prince the addictive aroma would ascend.







The strong fragrances of Olibanum, Storax & Sulphur inspiring the opening maws of Shaari Moth and Gehinnom- the Prince of Perdition standing before the 8th gate in all his demonic glory, the triangular-headed hounds, Tzelladimiron guarding at either side in defiance of this intrusion. Limpid-blood hued bodies contorting in heinous stance as ravenous jaws opened showing all those rows of serrated and jagged teeth- their hot breaths billowing steam from constricting nostrils. Tinctures of bronze and crimson evolving over their armoured flesh, bodies restricting savage animalistic urges at the scent of burning flesh and the decadent summoning of such naked beauties, provocatively swaying in the overture of amber inferno; even Abandon himself would have to raise a curious brow before his voice would boom in defiance.  And still that egregore would not cease; her words still rang through the hells, laughing in the faces of their defiance, believe it or not, Atra?Lamia had the exact power to render and tear hell asunder as granted by the prestige of her parents and the heir to the Satanic throne in her Father?s absence?who could deny that?







No time would be wasted to exchange the glares of ominous eyes and ego?s, instantly the last of the Enochian Keys would be uttered, the last of the maidens thrown before the beasts to tear to shreds or for the pleasure of the Pit Lord himself- her own energies began to wane again and it was only a matter of time before exhaustion would once again etch over those naked svelte limbs stained with the blood of her victims and the stench of the burnt offerings tarnishing features black with charred ashes and pitch?the same powerful resonation would be ushered- spoken forth in the very tongue of the Seraphim; the First Triad and the Grigori ? the fallen Watches?.she meant business and now the last gate was within her sights?







The Seventeenth Enochian Key: "Ilasa dial perata! soba vaupaahe cahisa nanuba zodixalayo dodasihe OD berinuta faxisa hubaro tasataxa yolasa: soba Iad i vonupehe o Uonupehe: aladonu dax ila OD toatare! Zodacare OD Zodameranu! odo cicale Qaa! Zodoreje, lape zodiredo noco Mada, hoathahe!"







Translation: " O thou third flame!, whose wings are thorns to stir up vexation, and who hast myriad living lamps going before thee; whose Lord is wrath in anger- Gird up thy loins and harken! Move therefore! Remember me, for I am the same! true darkness incarnate to flesh and of the highest effable Lords of Hell!"







The Eighteenth Enochian Key: "Ilasa micalazoda olapireta ialpereji beliore: das odo Busadire Oiad ouoaresa caosago: casaremeji Laiada eranu berinutasa cafafame das iverneda aqoso adoho Moz, OD maof-fasa. Bolape como belioreta pamebeta. Zodacare OD Zodameranu! Odo cicale Qaa. Zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe!"







Translation: " O thou mighty light and burning flame of comfort, that unveilest the glory of the Dark Ones to the centre of the Earth; in whom the great secrets of truth have their abiding; that is called in thy kingdom: "strength through joy," and is not to be measured. Be thou a window of comfort unto me. Move therefore, and appear! Open the mysteries of your creation! Remember me for I am the same- the true essence of darkness incarnate to flesh, the highest ineffable Lords of Hell!"







The Nineteenth Enochian Key: ?Madariatra das perifa LIL cahisa micaolazoda saanire caosago OD fifsa balzodizodarasa iaida. Nonuca gohulime Micama adoianu MADA faoda beliorebe, soba ooaona cahisa peripesol, das aberaasasa nonucafe netaaibe caosaji OD tilabe adapehaheta damepelozoda, tooata nonucafe jimi-calazodoma larasada tofejilo marebe yareyo IDOIGO, OD torezodulape gohola, caosaga, tabaoreda saainire, OD caharisateosa yorepolia tiobela busadire, tilahe noalanu paida oresaba, OD dodaremeni zodayolana. elazodape tilaba noalanu paida oresaba, OD dodaremeni zodayolana. Elazodape tilaba paremeji peripesatra, OD ta qurelasata. Lanibame oucaho sayomepe, OD caharisateoasa ajitoltorenu, mireca qo tiobela sayomepe, OD caharisateosa oucaho meji peripesatrza, OD ta boopisa.  Mircea qo tiobela sayomepe, OD caharisateosa lela. Tonu paomebeda dizodalamo asa pianu, OD caharisateosa aji-la-tore-torenu paracahe dizodalamo asa pianu, OD caharisateosa. Coredazodizoda doda-pala OD fifalazoda, lasa manada, OD faregita bamesa omaosa. Conisabera OD auauotza tonuji oresa; catabela noasami tabejesda leiutahemonuji. Vanucahi omepetilabe oresa! Bagile? Moooabe OL coredazodizoda. El capimao itzomatzipe, OD cacocasabe gosaa. Bajilenu pii tianuta a babalanuda, OD faoregita teloca uo uime.



Madariatza, torezoda!!! Oadariatza orocaha aboaperi! Tabarori periazoda aretabasa! adarepanu coresata dobitza! Yolacame periazodi arecoazodiore, OD quasabe qotunuji! Ripire paatxata sagocore! Umela OD peredazodare cacareji Aoiveane coremepeta! Torezodu! Zodacare OD Zodameranu, asapeta sibesi butamona das surezodasa Tia balatanu. Odo cicale Qaa, Od Ozodarodama pelapeli IADANAMADA!"








The 8th gate would be opened, and in that motion the 9th gate would also slowly awaken, opening to display the Infernal Hierarchy in all its supremacy and glory?would Varsinax be waiting beyond those doors to greet the anticipating Priestess and welcome the material world with a sinister embrace?soon all would be revealed.  
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:35:42 PM
At the end of her final night Farsiris slumped to a seated position drained of her own energies that she sacrificed to both her hostess and to the two who still remained alive behind her. Her ?energy warriors? were proving to be a strength beyond what she estimated them as. They stored and harbored all they could from the third ring of nine individuals behind them. The chain reaction became a mass of small storage centers that could gain and build from behind her. The system was one she had worked with before but on a different scale and on much different terms. A summoning was far different from a rebirth of a corpse, which she had done many times for many reason. It was her discretion to choose who lived and those who remained in oblivion or paradise.







This, however, was not her choosing. It was Shiva?s great voice inside her mind encouraging her with voices of excited measures. Like a lover on the brink of driving themselves into bliss, Shiva?s breathless whispers were brushed into her ears and falling silent among those surrounding her. It excited her and brought her more energy to contend with and help her great hostess. She felt the light caress of giving instead of receiving from her hostess as well. A welcomed surprise from her hostess who didn?t look like the forgiving type. However, looks can be deceiving as great Shiva?s avatars of picturesque face of compassion and kindness. No Shiva?s touch could bring death and life as he chose and this he chose for her to do.







The great silken shroud wrapped around her arm and her hand held it in a firm and steady grip despite its obvious and anxious tugs during the days of rest and collecting, gathering energies again. It was the only thing taunt in her body during this day and the next until the final gates were open to the great lord they were summoning from these depths of corruption, darkness and mayhem. The edges and pleats that stretched beyond normal limits of what standard materials could do cut and bruised her delicate arm. The grip she had on it was a strength of will and not energy. When the night began again, her voice coupled with the twanged noise of shroud sensing the rise of energy and spells to be released. Anxious to find its goal into the hand of Varsinax, the shroud protested its leashed and encumbered position at her wrist. Farsiris ignored this and began again the simple chant she gave to her ?energy warriors?.







GOBINDE, MUKUNDE, UDARE, APARE, HARING, KARING, NIRNAME, AKAME



Translation: Sustainer, liberator, enlightener, infinite, destroyer, creator, nameless, desireles







These were names given to the great Shiva over the centuries of his birth into a religion, into a state of an ethereal divinity. It was these names that brought her energy through him, filtered from those behind; those, the pair, she was coming to think of as hers, at least for this rite of a summons. Determined, she stepped forward slightly read to protect the seals from before and the material plane from being invaded from those of the final gates to be opened. Flashes and bruising became and numbing action as Atra?Lamia, her hostess, fought against stubborn lords and pushed through in her own determination to bring that which she sought and summoned back into her world ~ into this world. Darkness, corruption and mayhem as before only to a level Farsiris knew was in the heart of Shiva who whispered words of similarity and passion into her ear moving her forward ~ ever forward.







Focused on her tasks of protecting the shroud and that of those present in this ritual hall of the temple, she ignored the distraction Shiva found in the virginal sacrifices given to these last Lords of the gates. As this invisible force, that was with her observed these scenes of dark debauchery, his words became an amalgamation of words simply stated and breathlessly whispered ~Corruption, Blood, Destruction, Yes more?I want to see more, Such Sin~ Each word brought shivers of energy from another source that existed in Shiva alone. Her Fingers had to grip the shroud even more; Its will driven by the anger it felt in Arta?s words to these Lords who refused access between gates. Farsiris was even angry at this turn of events and forced more energy from the masses behind her to supply her hostess with the passion she needed to break through despite the declined permission of these Lords, Guardians of these gates.







The shroud supplied with the presence of the one it wished to help, tugged even harder at her arm. Still determined to not have it ripped by a hasty claw of a demon who wished access to this world, Farisirs jerked it back from the opened gate just long enough for the seals to solidify a protective swirl through this vortex. When it comprised and complied with her leashed commands she realized its goal was just on the other side of the last gate. Soon, it would have its goal. Soon Varsinax would be enshrouded with the material, climbing up from his exiled throne, flesh would knit under the shroud caresses and immortality would be natures gift to an already Immortal God. She whispered the words again electrifying the shroud one more time before it met its goal on the other side.







Om trayambakam yajaamahe



    Sugandhim pushti - vardhanam



    Urva - rukamiva bandhanan



    Mrytor muksheeya ma - amritaat







     Bless him who is summoned with the Breath of Life



     Blessed Shiva give your gift of Immortality



     May he be worthy of your gift that I send the shroud for him. O Shiva Great Lord Bless



                him with your caressing rebirth!







Translation From above=Om. We worship the Three-Eyed One (Lord Shiva), who is naturally fragrant, immensely merciful and who is the Protector of the devotees. Worshipping Him may we be liberated from death for the sake of immortality just as the ripe cucumber easily separates itself from the binding stalk.  By your Grace, Let me be in the state of salvation (Moksha) and be saved from the clutches of fearful death.







It was barely heard by anyone but Shiva and the shroud. After the whispered intonations she whispered again, ?May Shiva bless you with his Gift of rebirth, forever and always.?
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:37:22 PM
From the gates of the dimensions, pulled forth his highest of all majesty and grace of ultimate power and wisdom, the Lord Varsinax, behemoth and carrier of the blood from Hell which Satan, Astaroth, Beelzebub, Belial, Asmodeus, and others of the devils had bled from.  His decree of authority and dictating way, over all and everything of the night, brought him forth in the material life once more, of his will and his power.  Summoning and chantings of the female sorcery, calling unto him and pulling him from other dimensions and slicing the portals of time and reality, to bring a solid and pure air of evil to the earth once again.  He heard their calling, and from this he took the crown of evil and worn it again, spanning himself up from levels of Hell to greed over the mortality-ridden terrestrial.







      The form of the god of evil was human.  His hair was long and beautiful.  His skin was young and fresh.  The years of power only became exhibit to this body he chose, and his eyes were of fire, and would plant charisma upon any who faced him with sight or any sense, as the aura from this creature would be deity and nothing less.  Years of service before the likes of Asmodeus, Orcus, and Satan befall the race of humankind, and are placed into a portion of history yet to be told, but promised to eradicate ten thousand saved souls of Heaven, or bring them down from the highest of places, once and for all.  Despite the creative awe of the god of evil, there was still his presence placed into a mortal skin, and the flesh of him would die and bleed as with any of its relative likeness.







      Fire erupted across the sky, and burned all flock, and representing the careless patience of one which knew no power greater than his, but Asmodeus and Satan alone, the new king of the world was born of flesh, blood, and bone.  Before the sorcery and females who called, there the prince of hate stood, in an blazing halo of shadow, darkness, and smoke.  Genocide felt the air and mistrust penetrating all mind struck the thought of reality, as reality was stretched, and the portals were passed and closed shut.  The deed was done, and the lord of the unlikely was reborn, his focus of only the devastation of the caring and just, of all honest, and all good.  Tis the hour of final regret, as pressing forward would be his sword, the new dawn of a day to end the past and bring unto this earth a stage and era unlike and horrible to the point of death, decay, horrid mindplay, and fear beyond all terror.







      The worship of any evil, at all, brought power to Varsinax, the one who claimed the entire dark side of the universe.  Even Asmodeus, Satan, Baalzebul, Mephistopheles, or even the ultra-powerful Demogorgon, none could claim such a great and vast wholeness, but it was said there was one did, and proved it true, and for that, all their prayers received from sinning souls went eventually to him.  His claim, the greatest of all claims, grew in size, and it was his universe finally, across from God himself, the one of holy and righteousness, he stood against and was equal to, but not fair or friendly with.  The trust of the realms of the earth were lost, passed away to nothing, a history of a world with no memories, no people to live on, only the populations of mindless followers, and all of them their souls became the wishful and gained by the side of evil and darkness.  Even in Hades and Elysium, they knew of this great and absolute deity, a rival to only God himself this was, and for that, the angels in Heaven and the devils in Hell and the demons of the Abyss, were all of them in awe to Varsinax, now who was rival of God, and thus became the god evil.  He now, the least pious of all things, leader of the godless, chosen to king over the irreligious of the people of Aoyn, came to Tenaria first.  In the temple, before the ladies who called his name and brought him reason to grace the planet of people, he drew a persona and presence, of human eyes and face.







     His words,











"Brought me have you to this planet again,



And for this, forever shall you be remembered in history,



And the lamentation be heard because of you,



And the sinning for times to come,



Credit unto you for your glory given to me to gain,



Yet the fire of Hell itself is not as great as our power,



So when God's children awaken,



They are the children of Varsinax,



Now their godless ruler and lord of the realms!!"











      With his words, a grin of confidence past the aurora of gleam and glitz found in the wings of angels, and a dazzle in his earthly eyes, and the casting was complete.  The god was now another chance for villains to champion the causes of success and reason them through the trials of goodness and cleanliness, and for this, he was a worshiped thing, but only a man.  An arrow, a knife, a solid strike of a hammer, and he too, like any mortal thing, would crumble, bleed, and could perish from this material world.  The last time he left, it was to ascend into a worshiped status, and he received God's power, without permission of God, and he has forgiven himself for this chance already, placing trust, only in himself and his creations of darkness, to be final and rule the planet entirely, but only specks of dust left when it would be over, and they would conquer the good and holy.  For without some heroic and brave and courageous, then his evil, darkness, and fire would lack luster and dull sooner than if placed against God himself in a duel.







      And so, the man known as Varsinax was standing in the temple of Tenaria, after his answering of the call of worshipers of evil.  His clothing was of the finest cut, his hair was soft and silky, and his eyes began to pierce the world.











"My first goal,



To claim the Blade of Ayenee,



The sword to rule the planet with,



But in the farthest mountains from this place,



And with the aid of the armies of darkness..."











      The weapon he desired was rumored to exist in captivity now, in a location on the earth to be disclosed later in the text, but would still be longed for and talked about in speech in the world.  Rumors of this new darkness, this man who claimed to be the god of evil, and his following, which would grow undoubtedly, they would seek the Blade of Ayenee, the sword, and if they captured this artifact, an item no villain should possess or else end the earth's freedom to its creatures, then the villains of the earth would become the bosses of the realms, all of them, over all of the realms.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:38:18 PM
Her nefarious smile widened at the presence of an old friend; she may not have recognized the incarnate of flesh appearance of Varsinax but she certainly saw and recognized the strong vibrant energies of this dark and majestic Lord. The infernal flames silhouetted his form perfectly, licking along the contours as they welcomed their resurrected master from the pits of pandemonium and hellish splendours; a great day indeed- the triumph of an high ceremonial magick which had far beyond succeeded, the very first of its kind to be thwarted upon an ignorant world, and now the plague winds rose to adorn the new scapes of death and disease?and he would walk amongst them, their Lord and Master.  So all had been accomplished, her statuesque features shone with an almost angelic aura though shadowed around the immediate area of her naked lustrous body still sleek with the liquid adorations of blood and pitch. Eyes growing accustomed to the new fa?ade and appearance of Varsinax, admiring in sorts of choosing such a striking and profitable form- favourable in every way to the senses; however nothing could remove the stain of darkness that thew eyes of Atra witnessed for she knew Varsinax unlike the majority who claimed to known the decadent Lord, even his own lover?s failed to understand the ravenous requirements of one such as he. But, other instances came into play as the piquant Wamphyri energies collided to that of her own; fuelling that dark desire more as both epitomes entwined, altering both ever so slightly but enough to cause worlds to clash and become almost as one.







The heated flush circulating her body, atoms colliding with molecular structures of the Wamphyri Lord, Thibor- there was no mistaking his energy or presence, for who would dare even attempt such a feat upon her; and it would one of these instances where Thibor would win her total respect- he did not ask and cower in submission whilst waiting for an answer he had taken something on his own initiative and acted how he saw appropriate and fit. It was a bonding that would last every lifetime; nothing could sever it except possibly his will to sever that connection. Power flowed through her, changing  her structure ever so slightly upon the exterior, but on the interior her quintessence flared in a radiance of black tentacular energies reaching from her aura like serpentine shadows whipping against the ritualistic and infernal energies which gyrated throughout the temple and the location around the Temple where Thibor and the orcs were situated, and Verilora and the other Guards looking down in curiosity as these presences so dominative and supreme- the ectoplasmic pillar spiralling from the nine spires of the Temple were a sight to behold; neutrons and nucleus?s exploding into the ebony firmament in lightening spectacular display- piercing the heavens with that omnipotent vivaciousness.







Tantalizing caresses traced and graced her ivory and crimson stained flesh, tendrils of potency interlaced like the slender digits in lover?s tryst- lacing and tracing every fibre of her existence and history, delicately prodding every instance which made her the decadent and seductive figurehead in the world of Aoyn, well noted as the Queen of Darkness, Atra?Lamia was no one?s mistress and nor would she weave her influences as nothing more than the woman behind the force when in fact she was a force in which to be reckoned with on her own independent grounds.  A soft moan exhumed twixt teeth and pursed lips- that taste of power would surely leave her with the desire to taste and want more; predilection in such penchant and tangible ways?to not only sense but to feel that power fluctuate and ebb as if it was the very air in which she craved to breath. It was something never experienced in her many lifetimes, except for the dedication and respect shown to her by those whom feared or adored her out of obligation or their own thirsts for power.  This was something far beyond the normal whims and requirements, but what exactly Atra could not dissect it enough or understand it enough to completely formulate an exact answer to a question that mystified her.







With the intake of this new, vibrant energy her body became tense- each slender limb restricting so that every tendon and muscle rippled- hands clenching into fists as flesh bore the structure of every knuckle as teeth clenched; a surge flooding epitome in electrical impulses sparking as if electrocution echoed throughout her entire spirit and body as equally profound as the next, waves crashing and colliding against the cliff s of soul and incarnation creating an amalgamation of his own essence and body to the effect where she could even feel digits stimulating contours  and exposed flesh in an intricate dance of energies.  It would take every ounce of self-control to maintain her emotionless fa?ade before that of Varsinax and anyone else who remained in the Temple as those gates opened wide ravenous maws to vomit forth a new abomination upon Aoyn?The new imbibed power ushering, as the once jaded Atra would now ascend in her full grandiose stance as if the ritual was nothing or had even drained her of energy, a new source which she excepted with total gratitude and honour and would surely address this in private to Thibor, should the chance permit.







With a snap to her neck, to rebel against the tenseness of her own form, now, Atra?s slender and svelte form would swoop to an honourable bow towards Varsinax, but would not remain in that position as a servant would, Atra?Lamia would greet him face to face; eyes deep set into his and surely Varsinax would not expect anything else, for it would not be the Atra?Lamia he once knew.







?Dark Eve and Salutations to you my Dark Lord of Aoyn? centuries hath passed since my presence has been darkly blessed to be in your service as an ally and confidant. I hope that we may maintain such a relationship Varsinax for we are old friends- the Darkbane?s and you have a history none can deny, you claim upon this world shall be renewed and you will be seen as its Lord?.behold the darkness my friend and you and I, Atra?Lamia shall never fail to deliver our dark wills upon all who dare deny our graces. Welcome to a new world my Lord??
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:39:45 PM
Atralamia, the Sorceress of the Earth, of Aoyn and all the Realms, the greatest and most potentially powerful spellcaster there ever has been, and now she was the summoner of the god Varsinax, and most terrible and vile lord, one who has just in recent months and years, risen to a level no other deity has been able to.  Eye-to-eye with God himself, it would be hard for Varsinax, who has even projected himself as a mere human to the Material Plane, lower and decline his own greatness, to see these so-called allies, friends, and comrades as equals.  They were not equal.  They were less.  In fact, all were less, all across the universe, through all of the planes, and all of the dimensions, except for God himself, who was equal, and who Varsinax saw eye-to-eye with.  Now, that power forgone, placed in stasis, so that he could come and try as a mortal, to tame and maintain a stable control upon the earth, and try to wrestle the power of God himself, stealing, dissuading, and eradicating his worshipers, even if it only meant causing them to believe in nothing, then so be it.  He'd turn them into nonbelievers, and force them to trust his laws.







      How humble would the great sorceress be, he could only fathom and fantasize about her being happy and polite with her situation, but it was she who commanded her own way, from any who encountered her, and so he figured, even when faced by a true god of evil, one that has ascended to meet God himself in power, that Atralamia would still feel her inner need to rebel and have things her way.  Varsinax could not change the way things were.  If he wanted to, he could not erase the threads of time, and throw away his power gained through endless worshipers on the Material Plane, the exact reason for his rise to deity status.  He would reject Atralamia's bond to be equals, but place in its stead, a binding chain of respect to be metaphorically worn around the soft precious skin of her neck.







      As long as she was dark, and in the methods of evil, than no matter who she worshiped, or if she cared to worship none, not even him, Great Varsinax, then he would still find in her a reason to allow her the gain of his own respect, something the other villains of the world would try hard for but simply fall short with.  It wasn't their fault.  It was just how things were.  Some things in life, cannot be changed.  Some things in the universe, work a certain way, or happen a certain way, for whatever mysterious reason, and nothing can be done about it.  So, for whatever reasoning, the boss of the side of evil was Varsinax, and his servants began with Atralamia and cascaded downward in a hierarchy that would rival any dozen of the hierarchies of histories worst empires, all of them stacked together as one.







      He walked across the room, crossing the distance, as short as it was, in what seemed, even to Atralamia, as slow-motion, and only grace and greatness.  Magic seemed to flow all around him, as if lending him a wide berth, to clear for him, even though the energies themselves might not have been from him or caused by him.  When he reached her, in close quarters, Varsinax only stood a few inches taller than Atralamia, or maybe it was more.  He was a human now, and was average, but for that, he was special, and it would be shown as time went on.  The hand of Varsinax reached forth and caressed the silky smooth face of the sorceress, only briefly, to feel her life on this plane of mortality.







      He would say the following, and convey this entire message to her,











"You are mine, and greatest of all rulers,



I cannot bear another wife, so you are free from that service,



But still, you owe your life to me,



As I am the sole deity which rules all of the dark side and evil in the universe.







In my state, here without magic or power,



I am human and nearly defenseless,



But I shall be fine, and live to conquer all of the realms completely,



Caking them in a vast blanket of cold, black, deathly darkness.







I shall ask of the Realm Rulers, to go forth, and serve my dark wishes,



The respect I shall lend you, will be that I shall ask of you less,



And thus, you will have to humble yourself less than all others of the Material Plane,



And for this, you shall be Aoyn's mightiest, only beside Great Varsinax himself."











      He was quiet now, and walked slowly away from Atralamia, looking his bold eyes directly into hers, so that they would have a solid and complete understanding.  He would have so many things to do in the coming months and years.  He expected her to remain loyal, and not complain whenever he asked her to shown him loyalty.  As he stated, Atralamia would be the one, and the only one, who would have to humble herself the least around him, whenever he would rarely come around.  He would love to spend months at a time with Atralamia, but their egos would eventually clash, and he would have to do or say something that he did not wish to, and it would hurt Atralamia in the end, and thus, damage himself as well, as a missing link in his chain only injures the strength of his reign.  For that, he walked slowly, back across the room, waiting to hear if they, any of them gathered, had anything else to say to the Great Varsinax, before he departed for his agenda's next plan.  A method of travel, fit for a medieval mortal, would surely be his way to his next destination.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:40:53 PM
In the moment Varsinax had steeped before her and ushered such words that graced her perceptions as if they were music, if only for her ears- they would be welcomed and treated as law, a law unto themself and even though the many centuries had separated them, in all understanding Varsinax did truly know her. And in turn she knew him well enough to humble herself towards his loyalty and honor, always truthful when questions were raised that could work more towards the negative than the positive, but she would always answer honestly despite wrath or favour. Each word was understood, some painful and some enlightening, but as he spoke her left hand descended to grasp his left hand in a gentle hold as her opaque eyes looked deeply into his, as she spoke words of her own, sultry and soft only for his perceptions ? her right hand dismissing every one else present with an impatient gesture. For the moment nothing would break that concentrated stare into his eyes, both energies would clearly be felt and his not denied of beauty and power.







?For all the years unspoken, for our presences unseen and not felt; I have always been loyal to you, never a treacherous beat to thy heart in the affairs of you whilst you were gone to this world and thine eyes or even the sense of your influences gone from this world, a world that many considered dead to darkness or the darkness fleeting simply because they felt lost without your direction. But now, the direction has once again illuminated our paths to cross each other?s as intricate as Aello?s golden spun thread linking our existences together.?







With another motion with her right hand as if carving an object from the very essence of the Temple, or the simply trickery granted by a magician to stun and amuse the eyes of onlookers, this however would be a more personal item, one which only he would understand its origins of purpose and intent.  From the manifestation of those infernal fires and the distinguished presences of those mighty infernal lords as witness a simply gold ring would be produced, one bearing the adornments of those exact fires of hell reflecting in the hearts of embedded rubies. Since her hand gracefully traced the knuckles of his hand before right hand would place the ring upon his left hand- eyes looking down to admire the properties of this exquisite relic before the very hand of his she held would be raised to her lips; her body slightly folding in the position of an honourable bow as those blood-stained lips pressed against the very surface of the dominant ruby and then placing her forehead upon the same location her lips had just adorned.







?I humble myself to you not, because humbling is a requirement as granted by stature and place. I act because it is thy will who wishes to not humble but accept you as my Lord- one that I would never betray even in times of prosecution or question, I would never deny your name from thy lips. I honour you?I would not have brought you from the maws of hell if it was anything less than alliance or anything more far greater than love because in truth, in some manner I possess both for you. Our history weaves strong, and not even in doubt could I deny you. Varsinax, if you ever require my presence, you only need call once and I will be there, for whatever purpose or reason I will not question; but now, you have a world to greet and its dark children to once again bring into your embrace?I am sure our time shall come when our paths cross again, until then just know?my service will always be dedicated to you?







With one final kiss bestowed upon that ring, her head would ascend to once again look into his eyes?as the final words unfurled?







?Now, lead the darkness?!?
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:42:00 PM
From her spot on the circle, she watched the interaction of her great hostess and the great Lord they all had summoned up from the depths of corruption, hell, torture and death. The shroud now just a silken piece of material laid around her shoulders casually as she watched the proceedings of respect and command given between the two. Subtle intricacies of politics being laid out in simple minutes of time. Most behind her were bowing lowly soothe sea of people were subdued and as well as a mirage of abeyance.  As her hostess bowed she did as well shaky but in control of physical pain and exhaustion for the moment. When she rose again her head was bowed and only her sense of ear following the line of the interaction that set this world into a political abeyance of this great and dark lord.







The three rings of storage were slightly still in place. Some comrades were dragged away while other kept position of where they were before. Her two strongest warriors in these events bowed so near her feet that she could see the outlines of the hoods concealing faces, heads and figures. Pride erupted in her as these two had proven worthy of her attentions. The feeling swelled within giving her more of a boost to stand here, listen and await the time when she would be given the rest needed to restore her energy again.  Now she must remains still in a sign of respect for the glory of the great lord who spoke with her hostess. Here flares of bright cornflower blue shimmered in her periphery. Her long raven locks caressed her exposed back and her body bent slightly forward as she bowed her head.







Deaf on all ears but hers were the breathless whispers of Shiva corrupting the goodness that had been apart of her balance before. It was time for darkness even in her. Shiva and his encouraging steps to bring her here was all apart of this shift in her life. She would obey this Dark Lord. Be his minion of war, destruction, corruption and power. Farsiris knew that Shiva could smell and sense the sweet blood dripping from the wounds on her arm; it was the arm and the hand that held the shroud to bring this Dark Lord into being again. A small amount of her own blood given to the Dark Lord was a small price to pay for one so great to deserve even Shiva?s great respect and adoration.







Until she was either acknowledged or dismissed she would remain, her head bowed in her own measure of abeyance to both her hostess and the Dark Lord. Listening to Shiva?s voice whisper dark notions of what this summoned God could do for the world.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:44:10 PM
To Atralamia, he said these words,











"I must go now.  They are constructing a castle for me in Starthra.



If you are ever in need, or bored, then stop and see the great King at his palace.



From there, I grant that you are the Queen of this world, and your space I shall lend thee plenty.







We cannot fail!!  And to my enemies...



Let them rejoin my company, and the side of darkness...



Or, forever shall I stalk my minions upon them,



To crumble and crush their pitiful little existences!!"











His fist was clenched in the air before him at chest level, and the moment seemed ripe for the taking.  Despite the glory of the days to come, Varsinax was still a projected image of himself, but in the body of a mortal man.  It was hard for him to say everything that he was feeling at the moment.  Such a rush of feelings and sensations, he had not experienced in years and years, but now he was, and now he was preparing himself to lead the nation of dark kingdoms and empires.  The world of mortals, and the worlds of the afterlife had finally clashed enough, and now he had come to humble himself, just enough to assume a position of mortality, and from there, be an example to lead the people of this world.







~~~~~~~~~



~~~~~~~~~







To Farsiris, his fiery gaze went,











"Your duty here is now complete,



But should you choose to reject the summoning you have performed,



And cast me aside in your mind, as if I was not the true god of all evil,



Then do so at once!!  And be not ashamed..."











He walked over to Farsiris now, and stood especially close, her face to his, and he looked down upon her, examining her mortal body and everything about it, all of its aspects, and he visualized everything it was capable of doing, good or evil.  The eyes of fire there stared directly into the eyes of Farsiris.  When he spoke next, he meant every word of it, and did not falter or slow in his pace as he sent every word of it to her.  But no... He did not speak a single word, only reserving himself to look at Farsiris, and they somehow understood each other clearly.  He subconsciously told Farsiris that is was acceptable to worship Shiva, and through her worship of Shiva, he would find her power, and he too would feel worshiped and empowered.  Because of this all, Varsinax would aid Farsiris anytime she called, for she was loyal to him, and this was more than what he could say about most of the other villains in the world.







He glanced across at Atralamia once more.  Soon he would have to go.  A destiny of darkness would soon befall this world, and over the realms and their kingdoms, Varsinax planned to claim absolute rulership.  It would not be easy, but like when he first claimed Overlordship over the realm of Ayenee one thousand years ago, he would strive and advance toward the goal relentlessly.  The following of evil, even ones who hated him and wanted him dead, they would power his motivation and fuel him to the throne of it all.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:45:09 PM
Cornflower blue gazed up to the dark lord she had summoned into this world. His voice radiated his firm statement before he approached. A question posed against her actions. It was the first time she had such a question asked of here. Did she regret his presence here? Did she regret her part in the whole affair of bringing him back to this material plane? Shiva?s voice fell silent in her brooding self-questioning. His guidance was not apart of her normal decision of feelings and worth of what she did in his encouraging steps to bring her to this place, this time, this event. No it was her decision to follow the summons of her person to this great hall where darkness, blood and corruption ensued to bring a magnificent presence back from the dead. No she was not ashamed of her aid in this. She would not reject him for he would bring a balance not only to her life but others across these great realms. Others who have seen light and goodness for too long. If it was war and death that brought this balance then so be it.







At his approach she bowed her head again in slight obeisance to this dark lord. Standing before her she sensed his gaze travel down the length of her lithe form caught at an age of 16, a mortal body trapped in an immortal age of beauty. The glow in her irises sharpened and extended for a moment as she met the flame of his gaze that bored into her mind. He spoke as Shiva did, encouraging her to worship that which she had loved since childhood, accepted since awakening to their sweet voices. Another god within her mind it seemed.  Within her Shiva trembled with approval and respect for a kindred God. The pause of understanding between them stretched and multiplied the echoes of Shiva?s seductive whispers. Now those whispers coupled with those of the Lord standing before her.  Harmony in discordance again.







Farsiris had to stifle a trembling in her blood from surfacing to her skin. The power and darkness this lord emanated even in a mortal form matched if not surpassed Shiva?s caressing touch and voice. This only added to the darkness enveloping her mind, her heart. Yes it was time for darkness. The light has had its spot in the forefront of the lives here. She would aid him if she could, loyal to those found in worthy seating with that of the Great Shiva. His gaze drifted back to their hostess and she bowed her head again allowing this dark corruption to seduce her.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:46:29 PM
An honourable nod would be given to Farsiris, her performance and dedication throughout the Grand Summoning had been a crucial part as well in its success and in return Atra would return that act of obeisance. Farsiris was not a servant to Atra and thus would not be treated like one; her role was of importance and would not go unrewarded by any means. Surely she was weary just the same as Atra was, her very body ached from all kinds of side-effects and sudden rushes of various experiences and events, sanity had long snapped from conscience and now Atra seemed as if merely floating. Having bestowed the ring upon the hand of Varsinax and in turn received a token of gratitude and dedication Farsiris in turn would receive an honor that only Atra'Lamia could bestow upon anyone in Aoyn for it was her position and title to do so; Farsiris would receive the commendation and title of 'Sorceress of Aoyn' one that would fall into the category of the Tenarian Temple's High Prisci granting her the ability to bestow Elysium and the ability to use magick in the presence of the Temple and within Tenaria of course with Atra's consultation at first. Farsiris would be considered one of the Oracles of Tenaria, one three that would be sought and destined to possess that given title, not a claimed title unlike may fakes throughout Aoyn; they would be the true Aoyn Oracles.







"You have aided me in the workings which made this moment possible for without you perhaps I would have failed as I cannot place all energies into so many intricate aspects of the ritual and summoning just performed and for that my dear I thank you! May you accept the very title, that only I can bestow and that is the position of Sorceress of Aoyn, and Oracle of Aoyn- you are of the line only official by my will and thus the trinity is nearly complete, only one other remains to been sought for the same qualities you and I possess but also maintaining our own originality and practices- it is truly an honor to have found you my dear. Varsinax is our Lord, the Lord of Aoyn and none other shall be accepted in our presence. I shall award you with land, title and wealth in the land of Tenaria as well as a position on Council for you have done more than prove yourself as worthy of these entitlements, and none have earned the recognition as much as you. I would like you to remain as one of the Temple's Prisci here in Tenaria but that is your choice to make, it is your liberty to do as you will for I do not look upon you as a servant but more like a sister. The choice is yours and any you make I shall respect!"







A slight bow would be given before she would exit the Temple behind Varsinax and witness the confrontation which only aroused her anger and none of respect.
Title: The Grand Summoning of Varsinax
Post by: The End of All Light. on November 24, 2005, 03:47:24 PM
He bowed his head, acknowledging and accepting the wishes of Atralamia.  She would, indeed, be the Sorceress of Aoyn.  As long as he was around, which they planned to be a very long, long, long period of time, then Atralamia would have all of the power she wanted in the world.







He walked out of the temple, and made his way to his transportation to the Starthra realm...