Cannon 2

[14:49] Lemuria Augustus says, "It would not be wise to allow people to see this."
[14:49] Lemuria Augustus says, "It is not wise to allow -you- to see this, but I suppose it must be this way."
[14:49] Dragmire Ruinfall says, "Mmm, I trust Hendrick, but not the other- Rayoman? Ray? Something along that line."
[14:50] Dragmire remains bad at names.
(Dragmire Ruinfall)
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[14:50] Lemuria Augustus says, "But I do not trust either."
[14:50] Lemuria Augustus asks, "You do know what I am, correct?"
[14:51] Dragmire Ruinfall says, "Not in the slightest! A woman of powerful dark magics, but beyond that? I'm a clueless simpleton."
[14:51] Lemuria Augustus says, "....mmm..."
[14:51] Lemuria Augustus says, "Pass me the ingot, if you may."
[14:54] The King nodded and obeyed, reaching into his satchel. From it, he pulled the mana-siphoning metal out, some sort of ominous sound entering one's ears as it was revealed. He would offer it over to the woman, wondering just how this would all go.
(Dragmire Ruinfall)
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[15:00] Lemuria repeated the same process as before- the ingot, some anointed oil, and a sample of her own blood were placed into the brass vessel. Her occult aura shrouded her body, as she reached into her storage, pulling out various materials of all kinds, mostly adamantite and nyeshk. She reached into her sleeve and pulled out her journal, flipping through the pages to look for a certain sigil-

And she found it.

"As I said last time, I must call forth a dark spirit to facilitate this."

...and then, what exactly she was and why it was so dangerous to reveal herself to others became clear. Her eyes shone an eerie, spectral blue, and on the back of her palm, a certain mark became visible to all:

"And given the method I must use, I do not much appreciate it when more people know that I should be burning at the stake."

The infamous black pentagram.

The symbol of witchcraft.

"There is a good chance you will temporarily grow violently ill from this, so please do prepare yourself for that."
(Lemuria Augustus)
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[15:07] It takes a lot to make a man like Dragmire worry; this was one of those times that met the requirement. The metal already felt wicked, but it became quite apparent to him that Lemuria wasn't just an occultist. Whatever would result from her forging of this metal would be arguably demonic in nature, forged with the powers of Hel itself.

Yet, he stayed on the path. This was a necessary thing, to overcome such a hurdle as 'fear' to become the true ruler of this land. This armor would aide him in the coming trials he was to face, and Dragmire did not care for the scheme of 'Good' or 'Evil'.

With that, he steeled his resolve. "Very well, call forth whatever entities you must." He would speak, folding his arms. "And know that I will not speak a word of this to any. Witch or not, I could care less. My victory is all that matters in the end."
(Dragmire Ruinfall)
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[15:14] "Excellent! Now then.."

With that, Lemuria drew a large circle surrounding the two of them and the vessel in black ink, whispering a few non-audible chants. The circle began to glow, and a strangely ominous protective feeling enveloped the both of them.

"Do not leave this circle while the ritual is going on. Those who exist within the circle are the authority of all things within, and should you venture outside, you will be vulnerable to the machinations of the dark spirit I summon."

Of course, with just one person, and not much in the way of offerings, the dark spirit couldn't really do half of what it could. However, what it could do was something that people would still do well to avoid, as it could curse them with varying levels of misfortune ranging from minor inconveniences to a guaranteed death in the near future.

"The challenging part is focusing the dark energy that I will call forth and allow it to be used for forging, but I believe I have a rune for that..."

Searching through her journal once more, she eventually found a rune that could accomplish such, and jotted it around the top of the brass vessel. But with that, she was struck with an idea...

Maybe there were combat applications for such a rune. Hm. A matter for another time, surely.

"Any questions before I begin?"
(Lemuria Augustus)
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[15:22] So, stay in the circle, and all shall be fine? It sounded easy enough. He would at the very least, certainly not be going past it. Whatever the woman was summoning, she gave it a hefty amount of respect. Dragmire didn't wish to try his luck with otherworldly beings at the present time.

Maybe once he'd conquered this physical plane, he'd consider such.

"If you're in need of channeling energy, I may be useful in that regard." The man spoke, "I am an Energy Magi, and I've been able to redirect magical power that isn't my own. I could be a useful conduit, if you do not believe that it would kill me. Or otherwise."

It was truth that the Power of the King had granted him the ability to tap into other mana, but this was a little different from the standard scenario. This spirit, whatever it was, could be quite the volatile element in his technique... And he'd never attempted to subvert the occult with hispower either.
(Dragmire Ruinfall)
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[15:38] * You have been awarded 1 Roleplay Points! *
[15:51] On a sheet of paper, Lemuria jotted down the following rune and placed it in the center of the brass vessel:

(https://i1.wp.com/demonsanddemonolatry.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/Sabnock-copy.png?w=347&ssl=1)

She drew forth a ceremonial dagger, clapped her hands together, and began chanting. Whenever she spoke a name, she neither yelled it or whispered it; she vibrated it, and it echoed throughout her very being.

"I invocate and conjure thee, O Spirit, Sabnock; and being with power armed from the DARK LORD, I do strongly command thee."

As if the atmosphere of the room wasn't already imposing enough, Lemuria's chanting just made it worse. The occultism of a witch was different than that of normal occultism, for while occultism was about manipulation, destruction, and chaos within the physical realm, witchcraft was that applied to the realm of the spirits. It was an art that reached down into the very bedrock of reality, capable of manipulating causality itself if wielded strongly enough.

"Thou Sabnock, that thou dost forthwith appear unto me here before this Circle in a fair human shape, without any deformity or tortuosity. And by this ineffable name, KRS, do I command thee, at the which being heard the elements are overthrown, the air is shaken, the sea runneth back, thefire is quenched, the earth trembleth, and all the hosts of the celestials, terrestrials, and infernals, do tremble together, and are troubled and confounded."

Indeed, witchcraft involved a covenant with the dark lord of Helheim, who's powers began to tread into the realm of the divine. And while he couldn't manipulate reality quite like divinity could, he could manipulate it from so many angles that it appeared as if it were the case. For while it did not bend the very fabric of reality that divine magic could manipulate...

The magic of the dark lord manipulated the unconscious mind thatexisted within all things, living or not. While it could not transform, it could influence someone into transforming themselves. Such was the nature of arcane magic; the forces of light and dark were shadows cast by the building blocks of reality, and absolute mastery over one or the other was the closest to divinity that one could hope to attain.

In theory, at least.

"Wherefore come thou, O Spirit Sabnock, forthwith, and without delay, from any or all parts of the world wherever thou mayest be, and make rational answers unto all things that I shall demand of thee."

While withcraft was not quite this potent, nor was it this expansive, what it could influence was the spirits who had that kind of power. A witch could summon those spirits within others, or perhaps even themselves, either granting thoughts or emotions that could not be discerned from their own. It could temporarily grant them the knowledge of the greatest scholars, or turn them into theabsolute worst possible version of themselves.

"Manifest within myself! And thus, I invoke thee..."

The sheet of paper Lemuria placed within the brass vessel began floating up. She reached for her ceremonial dagger, stabbed it in the center of the paper, and turned it sideways, as if she were turning a key. And thus, she spoke the final verse of the incantation, in a voice that was not her own:

"SABNOCK, the MIGHTY, GREAT, and STRONG Marquis of HELHEIM"

A beam of occult mana short forth from the vessel, hitting the ceiling of her house. The nature of both the circle and the runes on the vessel caused the energy to shrink, containing it, and causing it to flow into the two present within the circle. Lemuria herself would absorb the overwhelming majority of it, but Dragmire would be exposed to some, too, and he'd experience a taste of what demonic possession was like.

Images. Symbols. Feelings.All of them flashed through his head. Not quite fast enough to be overwhelming, but enough to give him a small taste of what was happening to Lemuria herself.

And as for her...

She held up both of her hands, which were now enshrouded in a pair of gloves made almost solely from occult flames, reached into the vessel, and pulled forth the ingot. Her hands were completely shielded from the effects of the material, allowing her to begin her work.

Her eyes were glazed over, and she was in a trance, as if her mind were not here. Were Dragmire to address her, while she would be able to hear it, she'd be unable to respond.

This was, however, his only chance to say something before the forging would begin. Now was the time for any last requests, ideas, or specifications.
(Lemuria Augustus)
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[16:11] Beads of sweat would pour down the man's face as the air shifted. It was heavy, and it churned his stomach. Lemuria's warning about violent illness had been quite correct; but the King was extremely stalwart. As she proceeded with the ritual, the presence of the occult hit the energy magi like a truck - Now he saw why him tampering with it would not have benefited either of them. This magic was beyond the physical that he could manipulate.

Sabnock was the name of the entity she was beckoning, and even as his body shivered and trembled, a wicked grin came to his face. If such was being used to forge his armor, how mighty would it be?

That was his thought, as his mind was graced by the presence of 'Sabnock'. The pillar of the occult burst forth, and Dragmire was shook to the core. It was an experience unlike anything he had ever felt, as images were sent flashing through is mind. Sensations wracked the King, causing manic laughter to eruptfrom him.

"YES!" He would roar, gazing into the blackened pillar of wicked evil, Lemuria lost to her trance of work. He knew now, that this was the correct path, one of true power that would warp this world to his whims. Perhaps the Order feared the dark; but he knew better! Power was to be wielded, power was to be controlled! He would not back down from the occult, for the Witches had revealed that it was just another source of might!

One that he would have for himself.

"Put your everything into it, Lemuria! Make it a dread armor!" He would command, unsure if she could even hear his voice in this state of manipulation, "Make it a black stain upon the light of this world!"
(Dragmire Ruinfall)
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[16:29] A black stain upon the light of this world.

...Easy.

The process of forging the armor was not quite as elaborate as the ritual. Sabnock was a dark spirit that built towers, castles, and cities, and then furnished them with weapons of armor. To him... this was just another day. The weapons and armor wielded in Helheim were made of materials every bit as dark vile, and powerful as this one, so building something of that caliber came easy to him.

Lemuria acted as if it were that easy, her actions guided by the dark spirit. Ingot upon ingot were stacked above the brass vessel, each one floating just like the symbol drawn upon the paper was. Rather than using hammers or anything of the like, the method Lemuria used to forge such an armor was very bit as strange and otherworldly as this whole process was. The occult energy melted the adamantite and nyeshk ores like it was nothing, staining their combined form even blacker than they would've been otherwise.

To call it a black stain would be accurate; the armor almost seemed like it absorbed light. This was merely a visual illusion caused by the coloring.

When the ores and ingots melted together into some kind of amorphous blob, Lemuria reached in and grasped it with her bare hands, the occult mana gloves surrounding her protecting her from getting burnt. Her physical strength was bolstered by every bit of her magical energy, granting her strength that, quite frankly, didn't make sense for a human to possess...

But it also wasn't strength that her body was prepared to handle.

As she folded the melted metal and began to shape it, her muscle fibers began to tear. Her trance meant that she could ignore the pain, and perhaps couldn't even perceive it as it was happening to her. While her hands weren't stained black, unlike last time, she still incurred injuries too severe for her to ignore once all was said and done. Nothing permanent, mind, oreven particularly long lasting, but it'd nonetheless show both her and Dragmire that this was something she could not do very often, lest she risk injuries that would steal away her ability to forge ever again.

But after a while, after pushing her body to its very limit, she finally finished. The armor carefully laid itself down in front of Dragmire, burning with an occult flame so hot that he would not be able to approach it for some time, but he'd perhaps be the only one who could. Lemuria gazed down, and uttered one final chant...

"... For about me flames the pentagram... and within me shines the heart of the dark lord."

...as her arms went limp, her aura faded, and every bit of occult energy within the room- minus what was in the armor- disappeared, as if a light were turned off.

"Amen."

She gazed up at Dragmire, exhausted, drenched in sweat, and panting so heavily that one would be forgiven for assuming that she just nearly suffocated.

"It is finished."

(Lemuria Augustus)
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[17:03] The task of forging armor without a forge was a great one, yet Lemuria performed it breathlessly. She wielded the occult as naturally as he wielded his own soul. At least, it had appeared that way at first glace. As the process of the forging went on, it became clear that there was a price to pay in the crafting of his armaments. The woman showed clear signs of exhaustion and pain, and the damage to her hands became evident.

There was a bit of disappointment in the revelation. This would not be something that they could equip an army with. If they could ever manage it again, the crafting of Permafrost Obsidian doubtless would be reserved for only the highest levels of Shavetian Magi.

Nonetheless, as the dark faded, and the King's breath became free of weight once more, the man would look at the armor that had been laid before him.

It ate at all around it. Mana. Light. Hope. He would lift it, feeling the sting of it's devouring properties as he did. It was heavy, massive, thick and unwieldy. He smiled, and chuckled. The perfect armor for him and his desires.

"Amen." He would repeat, before beginning to don the equipment. He wasted no time in making sure that everything, from the gauntlets to the greaves would fit, the blackened Nyeshk pulsing with purple veins. He could feel the hunger of what they had created, the Tyrium woven and cursed into the gear sapping at his magical circuits. As it connected, the magical crystal in the center of the armor shone brightly.

It was bound to him, though the flow of energy would certainly take some getting used to. Doubtless, he needed to wear it in, and until he became used to the greedy material they had forged, he would likely be weaker in battle regardless of it's protections.

"It is perfect, Lemuria. You have honored this King with your masterpiece. Your witchcraft has proven of the utmost value in creating something to assure my ascendency. Know this, your service will be greatly rewarded."

He cast out a metal-clad hand, clenching it into a fist. It was a slow motion, but within the dread armor, he felt almost impervious. A chuckle came from the King of Nothing. He was satisfied.
(Dragmire Ruinfall)
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[17:10] Lemuria gazed upon her arms and winced, having a lot of trouble holding them up. Luckily, it would not take much time to heal, but as said, this wasn't something she could do that often.

She did have an idea, however...

"Should we form gloves with that material, and bind them to your blacksmiths of choice, I predict that forging said armor will become vastly easier in the future."

Another gaze at her hands.

"I know several methods of making the process of binding such gloves much easier, as well. I have discovered much from forging that armor, and fully intend on using it in the future."

"Do not expect any mass produced versions to be quite as magnificent as the original, however. You, as the king, will have the best that can be produced. To put such passion into such a creation is not something most can do often enough to outfit an army."
(Lemuria Augustus)
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[17:24] Dragmire would unclench his fist, moving it towards Lemuria. He focused, and it certainly took far too long for his own liking, before his hand would summon forth the Power of the King. Energy would transfer into Lemuria's body, filling her with strength - It was far from healing, but at the very least, she would not be quite so exhausted.

"An excellent idea. Yes, if you were to have protective gear able to resist the... Bite of such craftsmanship, it would be profitable to both of us. Your safety is not something I would gamble." He would lower his hand, once more, clenching his fist, still feeling out the suit of obsidian.

"This is a masterful creation, and I am glad that it's inspired you. Learning technique from this is certainly an added bonus."

Yet, the King began to disassemble the armor, removing it from his person. "I do not believe however, it would be wise to allow the public to see me wearing something that permeates the air so wickedly. At least, not yet. Soon, I'll be more than happy to show the world your craft."
(Dragmire Ruinfall)
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[17:25] Lemuria Augustus says, "I am used to keeping such things hidden."
[17:26] Dragmire Ruinfall says, "Mmm, then I'll take it to the basement of my residence for now."
[17:26] Dragmire Ruinfall says, "Thank you again, Lemuria."
[17:27] Lemuria Augustus says, "It was a pleasure doing business with you."