!b0vpMZLBb6 04/18/12(Wed)02:51 No.18763775|
File: 1334731891.jpg-(25 KB, 424x500, Odysseus.jpg)
All fucking right. Let's do this. The circle is easy to inscribe.
"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg.
The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.
Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).
Repeat every five times.
Simply, shatter once filled.
Your self is under me, my fate(doom) is in your sword.
In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.
Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.
You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance！ "
The ring shines, and a man stands before me. His head is like a mane, hair curling like water in a storm. His skin is rough with callous, his eyes, tired. In his hand he holds the largest bow I've ever seen, simple, yet strong looking, unstrung. And in his other hand, the oar.
He looks down at me, wearing not a toga as I had expected, but the rough leathers and clothes of a man at sea. His eyes stare into my soul, it seems, and he speaks, his words resounding through the room.
"I ask. Are you my Master?"