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The Unspeakable Convocation
The long pillared hall of ancient granite was mostly dark; flickering wall torches filled the air with more smoke than light. At the far end, a small circle of robed figures gathered around a faintly glowing circle inscribed upon the slate floor with a mixture of sea salt, ground marjoram and goat’s blood.
One of them peered intently from under her cowl, her wrinkled face thin and gaunt, her rheumed eyes blinking behind a pair of overly magnifying spectacles. She drew a deep breath and with a pebbly voice spoke aloud as she opened a very large book that rested on a small podium before her.
“All ye who are now gathered here for the convocation, lend your full focus, call forth the depths of your wits, contribute all strength that your spirits possess! Tonight we call upon deep powers that shall brook no error nor lapse of attention!” She stared down at the aged and smoke-darkened parchment pages before her, and incanted. “Hearken, ye spirits, for in accordance with the pacts we have wrought with thee and under the guidance of the celestial aegis, I the Archwitch Melesuffis do call upon thee to fulfill what we require, by the Powers Alelagon, Besamiel, Cugaromances, Moltalenes, Grethentumuus, and Quurzam–um… Quurzambufax… no, that’s not quite right either…”
The other cloaked figures heretofore had been stolid as stone pillars, each taking their station by a fat flickering candle, but now they looked amongst each other with many sidelong glances as the Archwitch fumbled on with her book. At length, all of them were looking towards the same person, a short mousy woman who stood to the left of the bookbearer. She pointed at herself in consternation, giving the others a pleading look and shaking her head, but her colleagues all nodded commandingly or gave her encouraging glances. The short one gulped, then steeled herself and sidled closer to her superior.
“Quuaarzammbuffoon… or ballum? The writing is so faded… Oh!” Melesuffis exclaimed as the celebrant nervously edged closer to her commanding presence. “Ah, Tefaney, be a dear and tell me what this says here, I don’t know if that’s a faded ‘a’ or an ‘o’ with an umlaut over it…”
Tefaney stood on tiptoe and held up her dripping candle, peering over the ancient faded page which was densely packed with thick Gothick lettering in which every letter closely resembled all the others. The indicated name looked more like a radiator grill than an actual word. “Quurz.. Quurzam…” She began to hazard.
“With more feeling, dear,” said the Archwitch kindly. “Recall that you are commanding infernal presences and enjoining them to your service under threat of insufferable pain should they fail…”
Tefaney nodded glumly and cleared her throat. “Quurzam–we’re quite clear that that’s two ‘u’s, right? Quurzambalis, Quurzambalex–”
The congregants began to mutter tensely as the time ticked on, and the Archwitch sighed. “Oh, by the Seasons, that will have to do, dear.” She took up the book again. “By all the previously named Powers and… Quurzamböllox, we do adjure and compel thee to expeditiously carry out our commands, in accordance with the sacred pacts and celestial names, so mote it be!”
The Archwitch shook her head, closed the book with a mighty thump that made Tifaney nearly drop her candle, and strode to inspect the center of the ritual circle, where a small whirlwind was starting to form, emitting sparks as it spun faster and faster. The congregants stared in fascination as it coalesced and danced, emitting trails of smoke that swirled around in comet-like trails. “Hurry, hurry…” whispered the Archwitch.
At her words, the cloudy swirls came together into a disc that swirled with diminishing energy, solidifying as the crackling sparks illuminated the pillars of the hall and made the hair of the congregants stand up under their cloaks. Then, with an enormous pop, the candles flickered and went out and something fell with a great Slap! to the slate floor.
Holding her breath, the Archwitch reached into the sacred circle, and pulled up a wedge from the solidified disk. Everyone watched with shivering tension as she took a bite.
She spat it forth. “We are too late; I have failed you all,” she declaimed sadly. “The pizza is cold.”
One of them peered intently from under her cowl, her wrinkled face thin and gaunt, her rheumed eyes blinking behind a pair of overly magnifying spectacles. She drew a deep breath and with a pebbly voice spoke aloud as she opened a very large book that rested on a small podium before her.
“All ye who are now gathered here for the convocation, lend your full focus, call forth the depths of your wits, contribute all strength that your spirits possess! Tonight we call upon deep powers that shall brook no error nor lapse of attention!” She stared down at the aged and smoke-darkened parchment pages before her, and incanted. “Hearken, ye spirits, for in accordance with the pacts we have wrought with thee and under the guidance of the celestial aegis, I the Archwitch Melesuffis do call upon thee to fulfill what we require, by the Powers Alelagon, Besamiel, Cugaromances, Moltalenes, Grethentumuus, and Quurzam–um… Quurzambufax… no, that’s not quite right either…”
The other cloaked figures heretofore had been stolid as stone pillars, each taking their station by a fat flickering candle, but now they looked amongst each other with many sidelong glances as the Archwitch fumbled on with her book. At length, all of them were looking towards the same person, a short mousy woman who stood to the left of the bookbearer. She pointed at herself in consternation, giving the others a pleading look and shaking her head, but her colleagues all nodded commandingly or gave her encouraging glances. The short one gulped, then steeled herself and sidled closer to her superior.
“Quuaarzammbuffoon… or ballum? The writing is so faded… Oh!” Melesuffis exclaimed as the celebrant nervously edged closer to her commanding presence. “Ah, Tefaney, be a dear and tell me what this says here, I don’t know if that’s a faded ‘a’ or an ‘o’ with an umlaut over it…”
Tefaney stood on tiptoe and held up her dripping candle, peering over the ancient faded page which was densely packed with thick Gothick lettering in which every letter closely resembled all the others. The indicated name looked more like a radiator grill than an actual word. “Quurz.. Quurzam…” She began to hazard.
“With more feeling, dear,” said the Archwitch kindly. “Recall that you are commanding infernal presences and enjoining them to your service under threat of insufferable pain should they fail…”
Tefaney nodded glumly and cleared her throat. “Quurzam–we’re quite clear that that’s two ‘u’s, right? Quurzambalis, Quurzambalex–”
The congregants began to mutter tensely as the time ticked on, and the Archwitch sighed. “Oh, by the Seasons, that will have to do, dear.” She took up the book again. “By all the previously named Powers and… Quurzamböllox, we do adjure and compel thee to expeditiously carry out our commands, in accordance with the sacred pacts and celestial names, so mote it be!”
The Archwitch shook her head, closed the book with a mighty thump that made Tifaney nearly drop her candle, and strode to inspect the center of the ritual circle, where a small whirlwind was starting to form, emitting sparks as it spun faster and faster. The congregants stared in fascination as it coalesced and danced, emitting trails of smoke that swirled around in comet-like trails. “Hurry, hurry…” whispered the Archwitch.
At her words, the cloudy swirls came together into a disc that swirled with diminishing energy, solidifying as the crackling sparks illuminated the pillars of the hall and made the hair of the congregants stand up under their cloaks. Then, with an enormous pop, the candles flickered and went out and something fell with a great Slap! to the slate floor.
Holding her breath, the Archwitch reached into the sacred circle, and pulled up a wedge from the solidified disk. Everyone watched with shivering tension as she took a bite.
She spat it forth. “We are too late; I have failed you all,” she declaimed sadly. “The pizza is cold.”
Nice fakeout that seems to be serious at the beginning. There's some repetitive language, like them gathering in a circle around the circle. Not a lot to say about this—it was amusing. I just wonder that someone who can conjure a pizza delivery can't whip up some fire to reheat it...
I don't get a sense for how many people are here, but it seemed more than just a few, so would one pizza be enough for them all?
I guess the only suggestion I'd make is about the disk/wedge phrasing. It's confusing at first, and I'm betting it's because you didn't want to make the reveal until later, except that happens just one line later, so I'm not sure it's worth that description to buy you one more line. I think it would be equally funny, and it'd avoid the awkward wording (which still sounds odd even after the reveal).
I don't get a sense for how many people are here, but it seemed more than just a few, so would one pizza be enough for them all?
I guess the only suggestion I'd make is about the disk/wedge phrasing. It's confusing at first, and I'm betting it's because you didn't want to make the reveal until later, except that happens just one line later, so I'm not sure it's worth that description to buy you one more line. I think it would be equally funny, and it'd avoid the awkward wording (which still sounds odd even after the reveal).