Mhaldor's Moonstone Ritual

Azor

Hello all! Thought I'd provide this edited log of the ritual we did in Mhaldor this month. Was a lot of fun; big props to all involved. - Azor

Hail Mhaldor,

What follows is a detailed description of the ritual that led to neutralisation of the lunar pool. Praise to the Lord, and to those who served Him in this.

Father Azor Corso

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A starry observatory

Smooth stone walls encircle this spherical chamber, an ornately wrought iron gate the only disruption to the otherwise unbroken ring. The polished flagstone floor is a perfect blend of ivory and ebony marble, each step upon its surface causing a hushed echo to ripple throughout the observatory. Black sconces hang across the walls, the alabaster wax candles casting a pallid glow upon their surroundings, sending shadows dancing across the floor as the flames struggle to stay alive. The magnificent domed glass ceiling towers high above, granting a constant view of the heavens. Small flakes of crystal adorn the translucent glass, glinting and twinkling to simulate a starry sky. An obsidian eye sigil is here. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. Its arms and globes carefully calibrated, a grand orrery of black iron graces the centre of the observatory. 

Jurixe nods her dark head slightly to Azor.

 

Azor nods solemnly.

 

Azor carefully lowers the hood on crimson apostolic robes.

 

Azor steps clear of the group of Mhaldorians lining the periphery of this circular chamber, and raises a hand for quiet.

 

Azor approaches a grand orrery of black iron.

Azor turns a slow gaze upon the moon, shining refulgently through the glass canopy of the observatory, and then looks down, at the model moon nestled among the intricate gears and shafts of the grand orrery.

His face a sudden rictus of rage, Azor abruptly takes up a dark-hued bloodwood staff and strikes the model moon, causing it to shatter, its shards spraying in every direction.

 

Azor holds an iridescent moonstone briefly overhead, and then jams it violently into the cradle where the model moon had formerly rested.

 

Father Azor Corso says solemnly in Mhaldorian, "A prayer to the Malevolent Lord."

Father Azor Corso says in Mhaldorian, "Be thou exalted, O Lord, above the heavens: and thy glory above all the land. So that thy chosen may be delivered: save with thy left hand, and answer."

Father Azor Corso says in Mhaldorian, "Guide our voices and hands as we undertake these acts against the conjuring of the Triune Goddess. And if aught of what we do in Your name should displease You, cleave our tongues and mutilate our limbs."

 

Father Azor Corso says boomingly in Mhaldorian, "The heavens will shake at the desecrations we practice here today. O Lord, grant us a measure of Thy power, that the heathens might hear of it, and be afraid."

 

Delicate metal flanges shriek in protest as Azor forces an iridescent moonstone into the focal point of the orrery and of the chamber.

Father Azor Corso says prayerfully in Mhaldorian, "Thy will, alone, be done. Amen."

 

Azor winces momentarily.

 

Azor pauses thoughtfully for a moment and then grasps a dark-hued bloodwood staff in both hands.

 

Using the staff as a measuring rod, and pacing deliberately, Azor plans a ritual pentagram, making geometer's lines in the thin dust that coats the observatory floor.

Nodding subtly, Azor drops to his knees and draws a narrow dagger from an inner pocket.

With a sharp word in the language of the Inferno, Azor plunges the dagger straight through the flesh of his extended forearm and into the stone of the floor.

 

His blood flowing copiously into the channel formed by the moving blade, Azor crawls laboriously through the form of the pentagram, chanting all the while.

Azor continues to move about the pentagram.

As Azor finishes his labour, the result becomes clear: an incised blood pentagram, sprawling across the room, moonstone at center. The blood glows lividly, unnaturally.

 

Azor folds a length of black cloth round his arm to stanch the bleeding and climbs slowly to his feet, face pale.

Father Azor Corso says loudly in Mhaldorian, "Lords of the Inferno, demons of hell, be bound to our foul purpose."

Father Azor Corso says loudly in Mhaldorian, "From the seat of your power, within and below this reality, reach out in sacred corruption to the stone."

 

Father Azor Corso says in Mhaldorian, "Shall not the sky and moon and earth and all else be thine at the latter day? Then answer this call."

 

The bloody pentagram flares to life, crimson fire pulsing through its lines.

Azor strides to the northern point of the pentagram and murmurs the last, most secret words. Though the syllables cannot be distinguished, they cause the spilt blood to rise, a skein of overlapping veils hanging round the room and brushing even the transparent dome.

 

As Azor gestures--palm outward, fingers crooked--faint, guttural voices seem to call back and forth, as though signaling across a great chasm.

 

Azor steps away, staggering slightly before being supported by those gathered.

Shadows shift and flicker as Jurixe melts into view, measured footsteps propelling her to a spot several paces away from the moonstone. A faraway look of concentration is etched upon her features as she folds her legs beneath herself and settles to the ground.

Mycen slits her wrist and holds it out, filling an oaken vial with fresh blood.

A moment of utter stillness passes before Jurixe raises her right arm to shoulder level, drawing her dirk with her other hand.

 

The air around a serrated dirk of cold steel vibrates as Jurixe swiftly unsheathes it from a stygian wrist sheath.

Jurixe slowly rotates her raised arm so that her palm faces skyward before plunging the serrated blade into the middle of her forearm. The sound of flesh being carefully rent asunder echoes through the room as she slowly draws the dirk submerged in her flesh towards her hand, stopping just before the base of her wrist.

Azor

Jurixe slits her wrist and holds it out, filling a daemonic onyx vial with fresh blood. The blood trickling into the vial begins to froth and churn alarmingly, almost threatening to bubble over as the container glows red-hot in Jurixe's hand for a brief moment.

Grimacing slightly, Jurixe watches as viscous, poison-rich blood drips thickly from arteries and veins that have been cut asunder. After a moment of pain-filled staring, she lowers her arm slightly and suspends her weeping wound over a small wooden bowl, quickly filling it with her lifeblood.

Jurixe glances at her fellow Naga and nods slightly, at which point each of them slits their wrists with identical sharp dirks, allowing crimson blood to trickle into small vials that they each stopper carefully before handing them to her.

The air around a serrated dirk of cold steel vibrates as Tael swiftly unsheathes it from a stygian wrist sheath.

Tael slits his wrist and holds it out, filling a black-walnut vial with fresh blood.

Saibel slits her wrist and holds it out, filling a cedarwood vial with fresh blood.

 

Tael gives a black-walnut vial to Jurixe.

 

Mycen slits her wrist and holds it out, filling a cedarwood vial with fresh blood.

 

Florentino slits his wrist and holds it out, filling an oaken vial with fresh blood.

Nodding in thanks, Jurixe extracts a small velvet pouch from beneath her robes and empties the contents, a small bundle of scales, into a rough mortar. Grasping the pestle firmly in her uninjured hand, she swiftly grounds the scales into a grey powder.

After spilling the crushed scales into the bowl of toxic blood, Jurixe mixes the two substances together with a small, stiff brush, before uncorking the vials and pouring the rest of the blood in. She then grasps the bowl with both hands and lifts the brim to her lips as if preparing to drink from it.

 

Nagarani Jurixe Nithilar makes an odd clicking noise with her teeth and tongue.

Jurixe makes a single biting motion over the rim of the bowl, a single dose of unidentified venom trickling down the inner curve to mingle with the present fluids.

 

Jurixe lowers the bowl and, cradling it in her arms, takes the last few steps towards the moonstone, blood dripping down her forearm still. Carefully, she pours the dark mixture over the moonstone, watching as it flows over the rock and drips onto the ground.

Once the bowl is empty, Jurixe turns and tucks the bowl away, the shadows seeming to draw her back as she returns to her place.

Sherazad says in Mhaldorian in a husky, drawling voice, "Ebon Fist, come forth."

The fluid sizzles as it flows around the moonstone, the pentagram burning momentarily brighter.

 

Sherazad and two other cenobites of the Monastery circle around the moonstone, each standing with their left fist resting on their upturned right hand. All three begin chanting rapidly.

 

Sherazad chants in Mhaldorian in a husky, drawling voice, "Ga vas sa."

 

Dragonknight chants in a soft, raspy voice, "Ga vas sa."

 

Turoi chants in Mhaldorian in a low, growling voice, "Ga vas sa."

As potent kaido energies begin to ripple around the brethren, Sherazad's voice suddenly becomes deeper with each mantra.

Sherazad chants in Mhaldorian in a husky, drawling voice, "Ani Kaa yu Dha."

 

Dragonknight chants in a soft, raspy voice, "Ani Kaa yu Dha."

Turoi chants in Mhaldorian in a low, growling voice, "Ani Kaa yu Dha."

Turoi's eyes begin to burn brightly with the power of Shin, projecting it forward into the kai auras manifesting above the stone.

Sherazad chants in Mhaldorian in a husky, drawling voice, "Wei mor ku iro."

 

Dragonknight chants in a soft, raspy voice, "Wei mor ku iro."

 

Turoi chants in Mhaldorian in a low, growling voice, "Wei mor ku iro."

Dragonknight reaches out to the ether strands tethered to the lunar rock, manipulating and pulling them down upon the stone. With this final effort, the three energies are forced into the moonstone, imbuing it with the willpower of the Ebon Fist.

Sherazad says in Mhaldorian in a husky, drawling voice, "Ebon Fist, step back."

Sherazad moves into the crowd.

--------------------

This concludes Part 1 of the account.

Azor

Part 2 of the moonstone ritual account.

---------------------------

Katzchen incline her head politely.

 

Katzchen says in Mhaldorian, "As always, Honour guides our path. Blood of the Maldaathi achieved through honourable duel shall be our contribution to rid us of this vile corruption."

 

Katzchen steps forward, resplendent in a military dress uniform of darkest black. Drawing her gleaming rapiers sketched with glowing runes, she turns, and bows to Vicious.

Vicious positions himself across from Lady Katzchen, garbed in a matching uniform of pure white. Offering her a formal bow, he draws both rapiers from his scabbards in one swift motion, before easing into a ready stance.

An ornate steel rapier rings out brightly as Vicious rapidly draws it from a studded black leather scabbard.

 

An ornate steel rapier rings out brightly as Vicious rapidly draws it from a Sartanic scabbard.

A Soulpiercer rings out brightly as Katzchen rapidly draw it from a Sartanic scabbard.

 

A Soulpiercer rings out brightly as Katzchen rapidly draw it from a Sartanic scabbard.

The faintest flicker of a smile crosses Katzchen's lips.

Katzchen says in Mhaldorian, "Let the blood flow."

Brandishing her rapiers, Katzchen leaps into action, engaging Vicious with a swift  flurry of blows. Ducking, and weaving as he parries, and returns her thrusts, she continues with the onslaught, the luminescent purple runes on her rapiers flaring with every slash.

 

Vicious' eyes glow red, and a cruel smirk crosses his face as he meets your attack head on. His reactions increasing to an unnatural speed, he manages to land several glancing blows on her, slashing through the fabric of her jacket, and drawing forth long streams of crimson.

Leaping back out of Vicious' reach, Katzchen's hand darts out to touch a shield tattooed on her head. A faint, mystical barrier springs up around her as she pauses to catch her breath. Seeing him lunging at her, she sidesteps, ducking into a roll, before swiftly sketching a butterfly rune on the ground, and regaining her feet.

 

Managing to regain his balance as his attack meets thin air, Vicious whirls in place, turning to face his opponent. As soon as the nairat rune catches his eye, his entire body locks up, held in place by an invisible force.

As Vicious struggles to writhe from the transfix, Katzchen lunges at him, impaling him right through with her rapier. A grim look on his face, he manages to tear himself away from the gleaming blade, blood gushing from his torso as he staggers backwards.

Flinging his arms up in the air, a deep, booming laugh escapes Vicious' lips as he backs away. A strange look comes over his face, as he manages to belch out a cloud of noxious gas, filling the air with a toxic stench. Muttering a chant under his breath, he moves out of your reach, his mind focussed on clotting his bleeding.

Katzchen looks down at the ground in disgust as hundreds of sickly white maggots dig their way out of the earth. Gagging and doubling over as the gas reaches her lungs, she squints around, searching for Vicious through the polluted air. Catching a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye, she leaps into action.

 

Vicious looks up in surprise as you charges at him, raising his rapiers to parry, only to be caught off guard as you lets out a powerful battlecry. His eyes widen with shock as his body seizes up, the force of the call throwing him to the ground where maggots begin to crawl over his prone form.

Losing no time, Katzchen moves to thrust her sharp blade through Vicious' stomach, pinning him to the ground. he looks on in horror as she twists her rapier mercilessly, blood and gore soaking the blade, as she rips it from his body. Smiling sadistically, she surveys the grisly scene before her.

Vicious lets out a choked laugh, dark blood welling up in his mouth as the blade is ripped ruthlessly from his gut. Lifeblood draining out onto the ground and the light fading from his eyes, he falls into the cold embrace of death.

Taking hold of the moonstone, Katzchen places it against Vicious' stomach. As blood soaks into the lunar rock, it glows slightly, flaring with a light that fades away after a second.

Azor

As the last of Vicious' blood drains out, Dragonknight steps forward, and places salt at various points of the corpse, before laying his hands on it. Vicious' eyes open widely, and he gasps in a deep breath as Vicious is restored to life.

 

Vicious pulls himself to her feet, his once-white uniform completely soaked with red. Bowing stiffly to you, he sheathes his rapiers.

Placing the moon rock carefully within the orrery, Katzchen steps back out of the way, inclining her head to Azor.

Azor nods solemnly.

 

With an air of determination, Azor grasps the stone in both hands and pulls it again free of the orrery, causing almost palpable ripples in the ritual symmetries that have been set up by the preceding efforts.

Azor turns his face defiantly toward the moon that hangs above those assembled.

Azor brings forth the dagger he had earlier used, still shining with clotting blood.

 

Azor rapidly carves arcane patterns and channels into the surface of the stone.

Azor pauses before Alcinae, fallen son of the Crown, and speaks a harsh word in the Infernal tongue. A glance to Katzchen signals her to conduct the sacrifice.

[Ed. Note: Lady Katzchen here shatters the limbs of the sacrificial victim Alcinae]

Vicious wreathes his hand in crackling black energy. With a diabolical laugh, he stiffens his hand and slowly runs it down Alcinae's splayed-out body, splitting his chest in two as he does so. Though Alcinae screams in pain and begs to die, Vicious proceeds to rip apart his organs. Finally, with a detached smile upon his face, he proceeds to rip the sternum out of Alcinae's body and drive it through his body, pinning it to the ground and killing him instantly.

Azor kneels close to the fallen body and binds the sacrificial energy to the moonstone, carving a series of arcane runes into its glimmering surface.

Azor continues his chant, pausing before each ritualist and staring into their eyes, seeming to speak of what has come before, as he continues to twist the dagger with a sure hand.

The moonstone flares with unholy power, jagged cracks appearing along its craggy surface as an ichorous discharge flows from the openings.

Azor abruptly stops both sound and motion. The moonstone is covered by an asymmetrical patttern: runes and ritual words from several different systems connected to each other by networks of spiderish channels that incidentally form pentagrams and septagrams, in a way that confuses the eye.

Azor solemnly places the stone back atop the orrery and quickly steps back.

 

Iblys, the Prophet of Malevolence says, "Let us take this charged object to the pool."

Sherazad nods her head emphatically.

Azor nods solemnly.

Azor picks up a desecrated moonstone.

Iblys, the Prophet of Malevolence begins to follow Jurixe.

[Ed. Note: All proceed to the impact crater]

An impact crater surrounded by meteor fragments (road).

Settling within the crook of a large crater, a celestial pool glistens with a silvery light. A pike with the decapitated head of Vayne has been erected. A jet-black falcon glides just above, looking for prey. A noble hippogriff flaps its wings in agitation here. Locked in purpose, Iblys works with a chunk of meteorite.  Benedomina Akechi Azuhi Moonwolf is here. Droch Alcaro T'Challa is here. Malefic Ethelred is here. She wields a small blackjack in her left hand. Minion Jemba, Disciple of Orzaansyn is here. His face is partially concealed beneath a raised hood. Nefarious Nadria Darkmist, Maiden of Misfortune is here. She wields a butchering cleaver in her left hand. Deacon Riley Vallah is here. He wields an ornate steel rapier in his left hand and a Shield of Absorption in his right. Benedominatus Dragonknight Lichlord is here. The Black Dragon Vrah's imposing form looms. Blade Prefect Vicious Lichlord, Sentry of Red Squadron is here. Benedominatus Turoi T'Challa is here. Daemonic Hand Sherazad Tasath is here. Father Xer Savril, Messiah of the Damned is riding on a noble hippogriff. He wields an ornate steel rapier in his left hand and a blackened cavalry shield with ivory accents in his right. The Black Dragon Ruth's imposing form looms. Minion Rozai, Disciple of Zii is here. His face is partially concealed beneath a raised hood. Father Azor Corso is here. He wields a dark-hued bloodwood staff in his left hand and a blackened cavalry shield with ivory accents in his right. The Black Dragon Icaru's imposing form looms.

You see exits leading south, west, and northwest.

 

Iblys, the Prophet of Malevolence says, "And this."

 

Jurixe glances down at the crater pensively.

 

Iblys, the Prophet of Malevolence drops a small chunk of meteorite.

 

Iblys, the Prophet of Malevolence says, "Take this chunk of meteor."

 

Jurixe nods her head at Azor.

Iblys, the Prophet of Malevolence says, "Upon which Asham and I worked long hours."

Azor picks up a small chunk of meteorite.

 

Father Azor Corso says in Mhaldorian, "Aye."

 

Azor holds out his arms above the pool, and drops a desecrated moonstone into it.

Daemonic voices screech upon the wind, "Be damned celestial bodies!"

As the stone splashes into the pool, the silvery waters churn violently, their spray splashing and 

lapping over the edges of the crater.

All present stagger backward as waves of concussive force slam into your body, the howling screeches growing louder.

Iblys, the Prophet of Malevolence exclaims, "And the meteorite!"

Azor holds out the meteorite over the pool, and drops it.

Flames erupt within the pool as the cursed meteorite makes contact with the moonstone, the waters frothing and hissing.

Jets of water stream forth from the pool, and a keening screeching fills the ears.

Daemonic voices howl, "Weakness must be eliminated in all its forms!"

Azor

Azor bows his head in assent.

Churning clouds of crimson fog billow from the fetid pool as its sulfurous waters burn the moonstone.

 

Clouds of silvery steam rise from the pool, hovering in the air in a luminous vapour.

Ruth sets her gaze upon the pool, her expression fierce.

 

From the western isle, a massive column of infernal flame explodes skyward.

 

With wings beating furiously, hordes of creatures swam around the burning cloud.

 

Jurixe shields her gaze against the flames, peering upwards.

Shadowing the sky, the beasts swirl around the burning pillar and fan it into a spinning conflagration.

Azor plants his staff firmly and leans into it against the swirling winds.

 

As the last of the celestial waters burn from within a crater, the column of flame falls back towards the ground.

Sherazad whispers in Mhaldorian in a husky, drawling voice, "Sa mor Iro."

Churning clouds of crimson fog billow from the fetid pool as its sulfurous waters burn the moonstone.

An impact crater surrounded by meteor fragments (road).

A noxious, red-hued fog overwhelms the area with a thick, palpable vapour. A pike with the decapitated head of Vayne has been erected. A noble hippogriff flaps its wings in agitation here. Locked in purpose, Iblys works with a chunk of meteorite. Cracked and covered in foul liquid, a moonstone restes here. Glyphs upon the surface of a hovering meteorite glow faintly. Lifeless, sulfurous waters emit fetid odours from a large impact crater.  Nefarious Nadria Darkmist, Maiden of Misfortune is here. She wields a butchering cleaver in her left hand. Minion Rozai, Disciple of Zii is here. His face is partially concealed beneath a raised hood. Malefic Ethelred is here. She wields a small blackjack in her left hand. Droch Alcaro T'Challa is here. Minion Jemba, Disciple of Orzaansyn is here. His face is partially concealed beneath a raised hood. Alcinae de Rothschild is here. His face is partially concealed beneath a raised hood. Deacon Riley Vallah is here. He wields an ornate steel rapier in his left hand and a Shield of Absorption in his right. The Black Dragon Vrah's imposing form looms. Father Xer Savril, Messiah of the Damned is riding on a noble hippogriff. He wields an ornate steel rapier in his left hand and a blackened cavalry shield with ivory accents in his right. The Black Dragon Icaru's imposing form looms. The Black Dragon Ruth's imposing form looms. Benedomina Akechi Azuhi Moonwolf is here. Blade Prefect Vicious Lichlord, Sentry of Red Squadron is here. He wields an ornate steel rapier in each hand. Father Azor Corso is here. He wields a dark-hued bloodwood staff in his left hand and a blackened cavalry shield with ivory accents in his right. Benedominatus Turoi T'Challa is here. Benedominatus Dragonknight Lichlord is here. Daemonic Hand Sherazad Tasath is here.

You see exits leading south, west, and northwest.

 

Iblys, the Prophet of Malevolence says, "You have succeeded, Mhaldor."

Jurixe glances around herself, a faint quirk of satisfaction to her lips.

Vrah snorts sharply in satisfaction, acrid clouds of smoke escaping her nostrils.

 

Turoi takes a drink from a stygian vial.

 

Azor nods, tension draining from his face.

 

Father Azor Corso says in Mhaldorian, "Observe the pool."

A smile creeps onto Turoi's face as he nods.

 

Sherazad says in Mhaldorian in a husky, drawling voice, "Thanks be to Lord Sartan."

 

Father Azor Corso says in Mhaldorian, "Aye, thanks be."

-----------------------------------

This concludes the account.

Father Azor Corso

Katzchen

Katzchen

Also I didn't fuck up the emotes. :P Azor just missed changing a few 'you's because the log was from my perspective.

Pedantic part of self appeased.

Phaestus

This is really cool, but I do have a comment that I suspect a lot of you won't like because of long-established habit in some quarters, and because I'm asking for more effort when cleaning up logs is unquestionably a lot of work already.

 

I would personally like to see more organisations departing from posting logs to IC boards and using them in making their decisions. How do we justify this as IC? Have we got little midget scribes following us around and writing down "Slith says, ..."? - Blecch.

 

I much prefer when accounts of events are just that: stories or reports, told by the people who were there. It's easier to read, more interesting, and can be manipulated and coloured with emotion. That's what the world lives and breathes on. Just because we technically can repeat back every word someone said doesn't mean we should take advantage of that fact when doing otherwise is more interesting. Logs should be, in my opinion, kept for the forums and pastebin and private memories, but IC news should be IC news. 'Harken, worthless peasants for today the servants of Evil triumphed over the Moon' would be a post you could point people at forever.

 

Let me reinforce here that I am not trying to criticise your actual content in any way. This was well done, and I love how involved the Mhaldorian crowd is. I just think that, while everyone is demanding higher standards -- and meeting them, too -- this is one area where things can yet be improved with immediately visible results.

Katzchen

@Phaestus yes, Mhaldor does have little midget slave scribes writing down everything they see.

Silas

Come back, @Azor.

Azor

@Phaestus Well, I guess. But, as you say, writing it in story form is a lot more work--almost as much as writing all the material in the first place, if you want to do it right, in my opinion. But I guess that can be the standard in future, and people who come around right afterward wanting the details of just what happened can be pointed toward OOC sources. Perhaps another reason why there hasn't been much objection to these logs is that we expect you Garden guys to write Events posts in narrative style and do the job for us!

@Silas Targossas-Mhaldor merger?

Xer

@Jurixe - we have another job for you! (Don't worry, you can push it off to @Kaevan if you want )

Jurixe

@Xer: @Kaevan would probably eat me.

I do agree with @Phaestus's sentiments, actually; generally, when I post about events and such, I do try to make it in story form (massive Bal'met raid, death of Apollyon, Nicator Keep theft etc) but @Azor also is right in that it is a lot of work, far more than simply editing the log. By the time most events finish, most people just want to get the information posted up as soon as possible so that those who weren't there can see it. From a realistic point of view, I'm not sure if we have so many willing to put in the time, the effort, and have the skill to do it - but of course, a practice like this should be encouraged in general.

Edited to take away irrelevant part. It was a really fun, slightly hastily cobbled together piece, and much love also to @Sartan for making it awesome for all of us.

And no, @Azor is ours. Hands off!

Turoi

hell, I'll write it out if people want it in story form >.>

Halos

Ugh, so good. If there's anything Mhaldor does brilliantly it's wonderful RP scenarios like this

Guys what are we doing we cant let them win @Targossas

Synbios

Halos said:

Ugh, so good. If there's anything Mhaldor does brilliantly it's wonderful RP scenarios like this

Guys what are we doing we cant let them win @Targossas

I tried, but I end up ruining tons of digital notepad .txt files trying to make a ritual that's just as nice.

Zii

Yeah, these guys are pretty good at what they do.  I didn't have to tan their asses to get it done.

Azor

Actually I wrote out the part where I'm making the blood pentagram while sitting in a church. I wrote a satanic-style ritual in pencil on the back of a photo-copied hymnal page!

Just hoping I'll get off with a warning zap.