Now begins the Classhole Incantation
Quote:
Pinch of salt to seal the ring
fire to please what posts beneath
a touch of hair from maiden fair
sprig of spruce to make our truce
food and wine for the divines
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The face of Pokesan grows pale, his eyes seem to quiver with the power of the spell. He attempts to whisper, 'Da-Dal-Daldaen - I choose you!'
Pokesan collapses in a heap, exhausted from the summoning ritual
Yun shamans, my Lord?