Cacodaemon

Rasmus stumbled through the fog filled corridors. He had stubbed his toe on a loose brick earlier and ran into a stone wall more than once already, but still he pressed on.

Every step he took seemed like he was being spun around, beaten down, and pushed back. The cold fog filled his lungs and settled on his eyes, slowly freezing everything it touched. It wasn't that cold at first, just a simple chill that numbed the tips of his finger. But the numbness grew, and soon his limbs went, and he could feel every step he took shudder through his frozen bones.

Despite this Rasmus knew he had to press ahead, if not for himself than for his friends in the tower: Captain Dwen, jolly old Misa, demure Vetta , and Vandia. Of course Vandia, with her golden tresses, clear eyes, and her bright smile she saved only for him. He would strive on, if only to rescue his Vandia….and of course himself.

In his heart Rasmus knew he was a coward, and despite all his self-assurances he was selflessly risking himself to save the others in the tower, he only wanted to save himself. When the wards were triggered and filled the tower with this damn fog, he had simply stayed in his room and waited for his master Leroung to dismiss the enchantment. Surely a wizard of his skill would dispatch the interlopers and return the tower back to 'normal'.

Rasmus waited…and waited…first hours, then days, then weeks? It was hard to tell. The fog played tricks on one's mind and distorted the flow of time. He could have been trapped a few days, weeks, or even perhaps months. No, it couldn't possibly be months, he would have starved. Though he had ate the wafers he hoarded in his room as well as the nuts from the plants he experimented on, surely they couldn't have sustained him for months let alone weeks. He was probably trapped only a day or perhaps even hours. He couldn't tell.

What he knew was that he was getting progressively weaker, and knew he couldn't last much longer. He looked unnaturally gaunt when he saw himself in the mirror. A product of the ward or some other defensive magic he knew not of, he was unsure. Despite studying under Lord Leto of the noble house of Leroung in Cheliax, many of his secrets were not privy to him, but such a spell wouldn't have surprised him given what he knew of his lord. Regardless of the reason of his weakness, he knew he had to find his way out of the tower.

As Rasmus stumbled aimlessly through the increasingly icy fog filled corridors, the thought that he would be lost forever finally sank in. There would be no warm manor waiting for him on the foothills of the Menador mountains after a day of hunting in the Barrowoods. No Taldorian wine or smuggled Andorian cigars to relax with. No golden tress maid he swept off his feet to bask in her company. All he could see in his future was a bitter cold death. He wanted to curl himself into a ball to shield himself from the cold, but that would only delay the inevitable.

"Just a bit further….you can do it…"

Rasmus paused as he heard the spectral voice. He had already picked a nice cozy corner to curl up and freeze to death, and wondered if it was more trickery from the fog. It seemed just the thing that Lord Lero would enchant, an enchantment to encourage one to struggle futilely in his trap, to deny a man of even a comfortable death.

Despite his wariness, Rasmus reluctantly picked himself off the ground and stumbled further. Maybe he liked the suffering, or maybe it was the sadness he detected in that voice. Whatever the reason, Rasmus forced himself forward. A few more steps before he once again succumbed to the cold and…

Rasmus pitched forward unexpectedly out of the fog and landed face first onto a smooth stone floor. It took him a few seconds to orientate himself, but a quick glance of his surroundings told him everything he needed to know.

An ancient scroll rack, metal and ceramic component jars, glass tubes and beakers…..Rasmus had found his way into his Lero's laboratory and he knew exactly what he must do.

He rose immediately towards the component jars, and almost fell again in his haste. Gathering what he recalled he needed and some extra reagents as well, he then went to the scrolls . Instead of searching through them, and most likely triggering another trap, Rasmus released a secret hatch from the frame of the rack and an ancient grey scroll tumbled out. Tentatively seizing it, he almost collapsed from the aura of power it emenated. It was one of his master's most prized possessions, an artifact procured from before Golarion was formed from the cosmos. A Cacodaemon scroll.

With scroll and component in hand, Rasmus began the preparations. The blood of a cat, the dried hearts of a dozen crows, and the bone marrow of a murderer were needed to create the ink to inscribe the circle. He placed the ingredients into a mortar and ground it fine with a granite pestle. He had done this many times under the tutelage of Lero, but not with literally his life at stake. He then carefully sprinkled the mixture into the shape of a circle and began inscribing the runes of protection and control by tracing them onto the dust. With his circle complete he needed only one more thing before he read his master's scroll and completed the summoning. A true name.

Though Rasmus had summoned outsiders before, they were small and weak beasts. Most were barely intelligent. The vicious mane, the mindless oozing Lemure, and even a stench shrouded Dretch. These were the creatures he had mastered but he knew he needed something greater to escape the tower. While Lero had not deemed him worthy or most likely capable of learning the higher summonings, Rasmus was a good listener. Too good. In fact, some might even equate him to be something of a spy, a charge Rasmus would not deny despite the negative connotations attached. Though Lero shielded himself from magical divinations, simple hiding, evading, and of course listening while one acted deep in study had taught Rasmus much.

It didn't quite teach him forbidden magics as he had hoped, but it did reveal to him something called 'true names'. Secret words that let you bend the most fearsome fiends to do your will. The essential essence of an outer planar creature that grant's those with power an advantage in forcing them into his service . Rasmus thought soul names would have been a better term for these secret tags, but given the foul and degenerate nature of lower planar creatures, it did not seem an appropriate term.

From what he gathered there were several names he could call, but he did not fully understand what he would be summoning. Should he summon the tactician of Stygia, a ruthless creature that defeated all his foes with both his cunning and his penchant for biting off his foes' heads. The Shadow of Agathys , executioner of the three sided palace. Malcanthet, chief amongst those that claim themselves queen of the succubi. Or the Black Duke of Rage.

All four seemed equally powerful, perhaps too powerful for his purpose, but Rasmus had only this one scroll and that meant he had only one chance at this. He had already tried conventional magics like teleport, dispelling, and even attempting to flee to another plane, but somehow Leroung's wards have held. To defeat his master's magic he needed something as or more potent. The tactician of Stygia seemed cerebral enough, but the prospect of having his head bitten off did not appeal to Rasmus. Agathys was supposedly a prison plane in Carceri where the darkest evils were punished, however would it's shadow help him escape his prison here? From what he knew of them, Succubus were not only seductive and clever, they were simply bad news. They didn't just kill you, but they broke you with pleasure , and had you begging for more. While the forbidden pleasures definitely intrigued him, he knew it was probably too dangerous. Finally, he knew little of the Black Duke of Rage, but its title was certainly the most fearsome and evoked all sorts of horrible images in his mind's eye.

In the end, he decided to go with the shortest true name. While their above titles were certainly verbose, their actual true names were generally a collection of unrelated consonants and syllables seemingly strung together to make things hard for their summoner. At least with the creature he finally decided on, he had a fair chance of actually pronouncing it correctly, which made his spell that much more likely to work.

With his target decided, Rasmus broke the seal of the grey scroll, and began his incantations.

"By the blood line of Thrune, through the accursed blood of Rovagug, and with the will of House Leroung…..Rheyzenixhaxtl I summon thee…"