Leaving the discarded note behind, Hectavia began the ritual to summon forth the Tome of Shadows that was promised to her. As she recited the words, the incantations came to her, speaking arcane and profane words of power she didn't know before. During the summoning, her pact replayed in her mind constantly, just as vividly, yet hazy and ephemeral at the same time. She did not recall the horrific visage, just the massive, winged and horned silhouette that ravaged her body, but she felt the terror as keenly as then, and even now her legs threatened to give out, despite her strong will and determination. She could feel the scalding heat of impossible volumes of vile, void-black semen gushing into her until she thought she burst and tore apart, yet still the dread entity used her as a plaything for its own entertainment. That very same unnatural, cruel beyond words presence was drawn to her words once again, and the disgraced, cursed noblewoman had to fight the urge to cry and curl up into a ball at the vastness of the evil she was dealing with. The promise of that power was inticing and seductive beyond measure, but every time that otherworldly mind touched hers, she was reminded how infinitely larger it was, feeling meaningless and tiny in comparison.<br/><br/>A low telepathic growl that felt like the rumble of an earthquake to her recently mortal soul rose deep in the back of her mind. A deep, loathing voice spoke into her thoughts, every imagined sound blasphemous and too painful in nature to consider.<br/>"YOU DO NOT DEMAND ANYTHING." came the answer along with a wave of hopelessness projected into the warlock.<br/>"YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE AND YOU WILL BEG EVERY DAY FOR IT TO STAY SO." it reminded her. She was only alive and not consumed by the devil because it found her pleasing, or amusing. She has given her body and life, but that was essentially nothing to the fiend, who could have taken them whenever it pleased to do so.<br/><br/>The next second, Hectavia felt as if a cock the size of a tree trunk penetrated her sex, uncaring for any feeble resistance her flesh might have provided. It was all in her mind though.<br/>"YOU DO NOT DEMAND, YOU BEG, YOU SERVE, YOU OFFER. POWER FOR SOULS OF OTHERS, YOUR CONTINUED EXISTANCE FOR YOUR OWN." the nameless evil thundered into her thoughts. "AND NOW SLAVE YOU WILL CLIMB ATOP THE ALTAR AND DEBASE YOURSELF, BEG FOR YOUR LIFE AND THE TOME AND IF YOU AMUSE ME ENOUGH I MIGHT GRANT ONE OR BOTH." The unspoken threat was obvious: Don't and you will be taken to the hells, lost and damned forever.<br/><br/>Such was the dangerous powers the daughter of house Koth allied herself with, and unless her mind already crumbled underneath the overwhelming telepathic presence, she had to swallow all her dear pride. Pride would not save her from her new master.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">DC 21 Wisdom save, like against a Pit Fiend's fear aura. If Hectavia can't make this DC, she is terrified by the infernal mind touching hers. She believes that if she doesn't go along with the commands and accept her place as the fiend's slave, her very existence might be snuffed out any second. She has two choices: finish the ritual, which will require her participation and continued telepathic exposure to the fiendish patron, or she can interrupt the casting and run away in terror, hoping the fiends don't come for her. In the latter case naturally, she'll have to do without warlock powers.<br/>If she succeeds, she can keep her composture but will get the general idea that it's a very, very bad idea for her to go against her patron, even in word or thought.</div></div>