To Summon Raijinn

By Coyotee Sharptongue

The soft droning of a wordless chant fills the dark lair, its blackness punctuated by the sting of the foul smelling incense that hangs lifelessly by dull grey strands.

Five robe clad figures stand in formation within the chalk outline of an archaic symbol, inverted to draw upon the powers of evil, their voices as one as they provide the droning chant that begins their foul ceremony. At the bastardized pinnacle of the crude ruin the lead figure, his head crowned in wicked looking horns, steps forward, his voice a mixture of gravel and malice.

“Brothers.” The figure at the apex of the archaic symbol hisses, his voice bringing an eerie silence down upon the ceremony as the rhythmic chanting abruptly stops.

“Like maggots gorging themselves on a rancid corpse, the fools of Qeynos have infested this land for far too long.” The leader growls, the wicked horns that grace the crown of his hood glisten menacingly in sparse candle light. His face, masked in the likeness of a skull turns slowly as he lowers his gaze to each of his cohorts.

“But NO MORE!” He bellows in sudden rage, his harsh shout echoing weirdly around them as he raises a pale fist in defiance.

“For tonight..” The commander of the silent men trails off, his fist slowly cocking into a pointing finger as his arm drops. “For tonight we control the gods themselves.” He finishes as his crooked digit aligns with an ancient looking cauldron.

As if following a wordless command, one of the robed brethren moves forward and tosses a handful of strange powder into the small fire that simmers beneath the pot. The affect is instant as the flames roar with new life, surging forth and casting an eerie glow and chaotic shadows upon the figures gathered there.
The group’s leader laughs maniacally from behind the grotesque mask as he raises his hands towards the lair’s ceiling as he follows the smoke and crackling splinters from the fire.

“UPON US IS THE DAWNING OF A NEW AGE!” He shrieks, his head thrown back in triumph. “As our offerings are consumed by the summoning pool, we shall call forth the dread demon Raijinn, and upon his arrival…” The leader lowers his skull covered gaze to his silent followers. “Qeynos shall be ours.” He laughs evilly, his dark mirth echoing through the murky chamber.

A rectangle of scalding light opens behind those gathered as a shadowy figure steps from the blinding glow, its imposing shape taking up more than half of the frame.

“What are you boys doing down here? And what is that SMELL?” A woman’s voice asks in disgust as the leader quickly turns to his loyal followers.

“Oh geez! It’s my MOM.” He stresses as the other four look quickly between themselves.

“Are those my good robes?!?” The woman shrieks as the lead figure groans, throwing orders to his men.

“Okay…I’ll get rid of her – you guys throw in the ingredients, and I’ll finish the spell in a second.” He instructs quickly as he drops his horned crown and moves towards the light.

“Can’t you SEE the do not disturb sign? Why do you have embarrass me in front of my friends?” The imposing leader whines as he closes the door behind him, leaving his minions once again alone in the darkness.

A long and awkward silence passes as the henchmen look between themselves and then at the simmering cauldron. Unsure of what to do without the harsh orders from their leader, they slowly step forward one after another and empty their ingredients into the brackish liquid.

“Eyes of a birth blind elf.” The first among them mumbles as he makes a quick gesture and steps back to his place within the symbol.

“Tears of a um..heart broken fairy.” The next announces, taking his lead from the first, before quickly returning back to his station.

“The blood of…hey.” The third stops as he tilts his head towards the initial two. “How did you get tears from a fairy?” He asks suspiciously.

“I just did. Shut up.” The second scowls as he looks down at his feet.

“Oh my god! You little cheater! Coyote is going to be PISSED!” The third minion accuses as the first steps back out of his station.

“Yeah, well that doesn’t look like dwarf blood to me DARNELL. In fact, it smells like BEER!!” The first of them points out, causing his peer to hide a vial of liquid behind his back.

“So? Dwarves drink a lot. Everyone knows that. And like we’re supposed to believe that you got elf eyes Tony? Those look like RAISINS! How about I tell Coyote” He hisses back as the fourth steps forward.

“Guys! He’s coming back! Just throw everything in and SHUT UP!” The last minion exclaims as he quickly tosses a large rock into the brew. The four henchmen quickly step back in place as their leader noisily returns. With a few nervous glances thrown between them, they await in silence as the lead figure quickly steps back to his position and again dons his horned crown.

“..get a lock for that door. “ He mumbles as he looks at each of the summoners suspiciously. “You guys drop in all the stuff?” He asks as they all nod in affirmation.

A doubtful silence is cast as he looks at each in turn before clearing his throat.

“Dark spirits!” He calls out, his voice a throaty growl once more. “Hear our call! Let the world tremble as we open forth a pit into the very hells!” Coyote cries out, his eyes turning skyward. “Let us reach into the very womb of hell and rip from the cowls of birth your child born of evil! LET US BRING FORTH..” He trails in his bellowing as all five men lean in and look towards the crimson smoke that slowly coils from the depths of the iron cauldron.

“Raijinn.” Coyote says quietly as they all watch breathlessly.

The effect was instant.

An explosion of smoke and the stench of sulfur rock the heavy cauldron as all five of the summoners step back instinctively. The room is quickly filled with the thick crimson smoke as an eerie glow emanates from the base of the ceremonial pot, and as the demonic form of the newly summoned Raijinn steps through the curtain of blood red mists, the world goes black.

*********

A tipped cauldron still drips a foul smelling black liquid that joins a large spreading stain that encompasses most of the small room. A large hole in one wall allows a steady stream of sunlight to trickle through the chamber, bringing the previous night’s events into focus.

Several large kegs of ale lay smashed, their contents long consumed by the occupants of the room. Several half naked bodies whimper in the bright morning light and shield their faces in protest. One of the chosen minions slowly stands, his eyes screwed shut in pain at the brightness as the leader Coyote slowly stumbles towards him in a similar state of agony.

“Dude…” The leader grimaces, his own voice like a thousand drums in his ears.

“Someone threw up on the ceiling.” The minion marvels as both men painfully look up.

“Someone peed on the altar.” Another voice calls out from beyond the wall of streaming light.

“I’m never drinking again.” Echoes another.

After several long minutes of squinting and surveying the damage to the room, the leader picks up the shattered and twisted remains of his crown of horns and sighs in exhaustion.

“Lets..never..summon Raijinn again.” The leader moans, holding his head, as someone slaps him a few times on the shoulder.

“What?!” He growls, following the minions finger as he tries to squint the room into focus.

“Dude..he’s TOTALLY asleep on your couch.” The henchmen exclaims loudly bringing renewed moans to the room.

With a look of defeat, the leader takes a deep breath and asks his loyal followers in a voice dripping of sorrow and regret..

“Does anyone know an Unsummoning spell?”

And yet again, Qeynos is left safe – for another night…

(Once again, thank you to GPA_Shipwreck for ideas, inspirations, and basically telling me what sucks..and what doesn't. And to Raijinn for not killing me when you read this...)