Rasalom prep quotes and other stuff

Summoning the Idiot demons:

{{Quote|"You wish the Ring of Chaos?” he said. "Here...take it. It no longer fits me and I have no further need of it."

''Glaeken stiffened visibly at the offer.''

''Rasalom smiled again. "No trick, I assure you. For why should I want to keep a mere Ring of Chaos when soon I shall be an integral part of Chaos itself?" The warlock's eyes began to glow as he spoke. "I, Rasalom, have called forth the twelve hundred idiot demons of the Amphitheater! It took two years to complete the task. Each of the twelve hundred had to be summoned by a separate spell, and each spell took its toll. I was once as you were told—a huge, robust man. Look at me now! But I care not. Eternity is mine!"''

''Glaeken's expression mirrored his doubts about Rasalom's sanity.''

''"I don’t blame you for thinking me mad. But beyond that stone door you tried so futilely to move lies the Amphitheater of Chaos, and therein are assembled the twelve hundred idiot demons...the Choir of Chaos. They exist only to sing. There is no curse on the land...only their singing. For they sing to Chaos itself and the vibration of their song strikes discord in the life processes of all living things."''|Demonsong}}

He mentions that it took him two years to summon all twelve-hundred. He was still mortal at this point, so we know he had to have taken a few necessary breaks in-between reciting the spells. (Sleep, for one) With that, I'd say the most he'd be able to pull out with a day of prep is like 20-25 or so, give or take.

If you're wondering, he doesn't need all twelve hundred (or even all that many) in order for their effects to be lethal. He hadn't even been in the eastern farmlands for very long before everything (crops, cattle, people, all of it) started to sicken and die from the song of his demons, which the natives mistook for a curse:

{{Quote|"It seems that the mystery of the region's woes has been cleared up. They've discovered that a sorcerer named Rasalom—a giant of a man, I'm told—entered the cavern nearly two years ago. Not too long thereafter the crops, the cattle, and the farmers in the area began to sicken. Rasalom has been neither seen nor heard from since, and the Prince's advisors seem certain that he's still in the cavern."|Demonsong}}

_______

{{Quote|"The prince's advisor's were rather vague about the plague," Glaeken said. "Do you know what it's like?"

''"Stories vary, but most agree that the victims complain of a throbbing in the head and ears and slowly begin to lose their strength, becoming very lethargic. Soon they cannot get out of bed and eventually they waste away and die. But what puzzled the court physicians was the curious fact that all victims seem to improve and recover when moved out of the area. No one could give a reason for this...but sorcery explains it well: Rasalom has laid a curse of some sort on the region."''

''"So it would seem," Glaeken agreed.''

''"But what purpose could he have? Why would he want to lay waste the eastern farmlands—for not only do people sicken and die out there, but cattle and crops as well."''|Demonsong}}

When summoning these demons, Rasalom is protected from their effects:

{{Quote|"I am protected, for I am performing The Task. And what a task it is! The Lords of Chaos are wise. They know that to extend their domain they must occasionally accept new blood into their ranks. But the newcomer must prove beyond all doubt that he is worthy. So The Task was set, an ordeal that only a practitioner of the greatest skill and stamina could hope to accomplish. For each of the twelve hundred demons of the choir sucks a little bit of life from the one who calls it forth. I have raised them all and yet I still live! I am wasted but I have succeeded!”|Demonsong}}

This is what happens to people who get too close to them while they're singing:

{{Quote|The sound was a physical thing, washing over him with a volume and intensity that drove him to his knees. He crouched on the edge of a precipice and before him lay the Amphitheater of Chaos, an inverted cone, mistily illuminated by light that filtered up from the unguessed depths below. Carved into the rounded walls that sloped upward to the pointed roof were twelve hundred niches, and in each of those niches huddled one of the twelve hundred idiot demons.

''Blank-eyed and mindless they were, shaped in every deformity imaginable and unimaginable. Faces suffused with an insane, malignant glee, they howled and caterwauled in tones that ranged from far below to far above those audible to the human ear. No two tones harmonized, all was discord and conflict. Glaeken now knew the origin of his dream the night before...the Choir of Chaos was assembled and at work.''|Demonsong}}

They can focus their song on a single target, overpowering it pretty fucking badly:

{{Quote|In response, the twelve hundred increased their volume and Glaeken was knocked flat. Vision and awareness blurred as every fiber of his being screamed in anguish. Still he sang, clinging to the melody as a last thread to sanity; but he was fading, losing his grip on consciousness. His hoarse tones grew fainter as the Choir of Chaos attacked him with unwavering vocal fury.|Demonsong}}

The range and potency of their song's effects is pretty serious. Glaeken and his horse were hours away from the demons' location when this happened:

{{Quote|Glaeken found himself awake and on his feet, sweat coursing along his skin in runnels. The fire had burned down to a fitful glow and all was quiet. He shook his head to clear it of the dream and glanced around for Stoffral. Gone!

''Fully alert to danger now, Glaeken began shouting the horse's name. Stoffral was too loyal a beast to desert him. His third shout was answered by a faint whinny from behind the rock. Glaeken cautiously peered into the darkness and saw the dim form of his mount on the ground. He ran to its side and made a careful check. The horse had suffered no harm and Glaeken concluded that Stoffral must be a victim of the same lethargy afflicting his master.''

''He slapped the horse's flanks in an effort to rouse the beast back to its feet but to no avail. Stoffral's strength seemed completely drained. Glaeken remembered the cattle carcasses along the road and swore that his steed would not suffer a similar fate. He stalked to the fire and lifted a branch that had been only partially consumed. Fanning it in the air until he tip glowed cherry with heat, he applied the brand to Stoffral's right hindquarter. Amid the whiff of singed hair and the hiss of searing flesh, the horse screamed in pain and rose on wobbly legs.''

''Glaeken could not help but cast a fearful glance over his shoulder as he steadied his mount; horses were rare and highly valued creatures in the land where he had been raised, and any man caught doing harm to one was likely to be attacked by an angry mob. But pain or not, scar or not, Stoffral was on his feet now and somewhat revived. That was all that mattered at the moment. And the horse seemed to know instinctively that the act had been done without malice.''|Demonsong}}

Stoffral was a perfectly healthy horse before all of this, by the way.

As Glaeken drew closer to the demons (he brought his horse to a safe place first), he grew weaker. Once he had actually arrived at the cavern where they were located, he'd been reduced to...this:

{{Quote|Dawn lightened the perpetual overcast as Glaeken stood before the high arched entrance to Elder Cavern. He felt as if his eyes had been torn out and replaced with heated coals. His head buzzed and hummed; his sword had become a drag anchor. The very air weighed upon him like a stone. He stood swaying, questioning the wisdom of entering the opening before him. His strength had steadily declined during the night and he was now so weakened that he seriously entertained thoughts of abandoning his mission.

''Everything seemed so hopeless. With barely strength enough to stand, he’d be insane to challenge a giant in stature and sorcery such as Rasalom. Yet he forced himself to stagger toward the cavern maw.''|Demonsong}}

Other minions

With prep, Rasalom would be capable of bringing other animals, undead and (minor) Otherness creatures into the fight. These aren't as dangerous as the demons, obviously, but he has easy access to them and can call them from pretty far away. (So it's not like he has to go down to a forest just to get himself a pack of wolves or bears; he can call them from afar. Same with the Otherness beings.)

He can control animals and undead at the same time:

{{Quote|He noticed movement near his feet and all around the periphery of the excavation. Small movements. He gasped—rats! Hundreds of rats surrounded the pit, squirming and jostling one another, agitated ... expectant...

''Cuza saw something much larger than a rat crawling up the wall of the excavation. He stepped forward and pointed the flashlight directly into the pit—and almost dropped it. It was like looking into one of the outer rings of Hell. Feeling suddenly weak, he lurched away from the edge and pressed his shoulder against the nearest wall to keep from toppling over. He closed his eyes and panted like a dog on a stifling August day, trying to calm himself, trying to hold down his rising gorge, trying to accept what he had seen.''

''There were dead men in the pit, ten of them, all in German uniforms of either gray or black, all moving about—even the one without the head!''|The Keep}}

{{Quote|Rasalom made a tiny gesture with his left hand, and behind him in the dark the corpses of Major Kaempffer and Captain Woermann began to struggle to their feet again, to stand stiffly erect, waiting.

''In a cold rage, Rasalom strode from the chamber. The daughter would be easy to handle. The two corpses stumbled after him. And after them followed the army of rats.''|The Keep}}

{{Quote|Across the courtyard lay the entrance to the cellar. She could throw the hilt down there. She began running toward the entrance but stopped halfway there. Someone was coming up the steps.

''Rasalom!''

''He seemed to float, rising from the cellar as a huge dead fish might rise from the bottom of a stagnant pond. At the sight of her, his eyes became twin spheres of dark fury, assaulting her, stabbing her. He bared his teeth as he seemed to glide through the mist toward her.''

''Magda held her ground. Glaeken had said the hilt had the power to counter Rasalom. She felt strong. She could face him.''

''There was movement behind Rasalom as he approached. Two other figures were emerging from the subcellar, figures with slack, white faces that followed Rasalom as he stalked forward. Magda recognized them: the captain and that awful major. She did not need a closer look to know that they were dead. Glaeken had told her about the walking corpses and she had been half expecting to see them, but that did not keep her blood from running cold at the sight of them. Yet she felt strangely safe.''

''Rasalom stopped within a dozen feet of her and slowly raised his arms until they were spread put like wings. For a moment, nothing happened. Then Magda noticed stirrings in the fog that blanketed the courtyard and swirled about her knees. All around her, hands rose out of the mist, clutching at the air, followed by heads, and then torsos. Like loathsome fungal growths sprouting from moldy soil, the German soldiers who had occupied the keep were rising from the dead.''

''Magda saw their ravaged bodies, their torn throats, yet she stood firm. She had the hilt. Glaeken had said the hilt could negate Rasalom's animating power. She believed him. She had to!''

''The corpses arrayed themselves behind Rasalom and to his right and left. No one moved.''

''Maybe they're afraid of the hilt! Magda thought, her heart leaping. Maybe they can't get any closer!''

''Then she noticed a curious rippling in the fog around the corpses' feet. She looked down. Through gaps in the mist she glimpsed scuttling forms, gray and brown. Rats! Revulsion tightened her throat and swept over her skin. Magda began to back away. They were moving toward her, not in a solid front, but in a chaotic scramble of crisscrossing paths and squat, bustling bodies. She could face anything—even the walking dead—anything but rats.''|The Keep}}

Tarrant has summons of his own, it seems. But that might prove to be a bad thing; Rasalom is capable of stealing control of another person's creatures with ease:

{{Quote|He looked over toward the cenote and saw half a dozen chew wasps rising from the opening. He guessed they hadn’t been too far down.

''Oh, yes…Rasalom was in for one messy, bloody, and—Jack hoped—painful death. He was glad for a front row seat.''

''The wasps arranged themselves in V formation and charged, homing in on Rasalom.''

''Jack braced himself. This was going to be ugly, but he wanted to watch every second of it.''

''Rasalom remained facing Semelee, his back to the cenote. When the wasps were almost upon him, Rasalom gestured with his left hand—little more than a wrist-flick, like a diner signaling a waiter that the amount in the wineglass was quite sufficient, thank you—and they stopped, hovering around him like bees guarding a hive.''

''Jack heard a low-pitched screech from Semelee. Her teeth were clenched and bared as she struggled for control of the chew wasps. Jack could tell by the vaguely amused twist of Rasalom’s lips that he was enjoying the struggle and that she didn’t have a chance.''

''Finally he seemed to tire of the game. Another flick of his hand and the wasps were on her like ants on a sugar cube. She dropped her shells and tried to bat them away but they attacked from all sides and she went down in sprays of red, kicking, thrashing, writhing. Her screams as they tore her flesh were awful to hear. Jack couldn’t help wonder if Anya had wailed like that.''

''Jack looked away, toward Rasalom, and almost worse than the screams was the avid look on his face as he stood over her and watched her death agonies.''|Gateways}}
This was a girl who could control multiple creatures (animals, Otherness monsters, etc.) into doing whatever she wanted.

By the way, this isn't related to prep or anything, but I ran into something else that may factor into this fight (good or bad) while I was combing through ''The Keep'' for quotes. Apparently when Rasalom's power isn't restrained, this is what stepping into his presence is like:

{{Quote|Glenn's parting words came back to her: Whatever you do, don't step across into the keep. That's Rasalom's domain now. But she knew she had to step across. The malignant aura around the keep had made it an effort merely to walk across the causeway. Now she had to feel what it was like inside. It would help her decide.

''She edged her foot forward, then pulled it back. Perspiration had broken out all over her body. She didn't want to do this but circumstances left her little choice. Setting her jaw, she closed her eyes and stepped across the threshold.''

''The evil exploded against her, snatching her breath away, knotting her stomach, making her weave drunkenly about. It was more powerful, more intense than ever. She wavered in her resolve, wanting desperately to step back outside. But she fought this down, willing herself to weather the storm of malice she felt raging about her. The very air she was breathing confirmed what she had known all along: No good would ever come from within the keep.''

''And it was here inside the threshold where she would have to meet Papa. And stop him here if he carried the hilt to a sword.''|The Keep}}