WHO: The grumbly twins WHAT: The moment of truth - testing the purification potion WHERE: An uninhabited hill, somewhere in rural Ireland WARNINGS: You know, I have not a damn clue. Possible violence? Blood and guts? Demons screaming?
He'd managed to wait until nightfall to contact the demon; best to stack the odds against anyone seeing whatever was to happen. He'd told Princess exactly what he was doing, and told her which portkey he was going from. He didn't think anything would happen to him personally, but he wanted her to know, just in case.
When he'd done that, he teleported to a field, somewhere in central Ireland. The only light was by the moon, and there was no wind to speak of. Perfect.
He set to drawing the sigils in the grass with chalk, making sure the lines were connected. He'd brought the tarnished brass censer filled with water, and he set it down in the middle of the circle he'd drawn. The circle was about ten feet by ten feet, and in the centre he began to draw sigils with chalk. At the last minute, he took out the phial of chemicals he'd mixed in the shop, and combined it with the water and saltpeter he'd gathered. It congealed, forming a paste of sorts, as it ought to. He retraced his lines with the mixture, feeling a flash of excitement as the sigils turned a brown color. It all seemed to be working.
Only when the preliminaries were finished did he feel for the medallion in his pocket. Raziel, he murmured in his mind, knowing the fallen angel would respond to either name. It somehow seemed more fitting to use this one. He knew what he had to do now, and belatedly hoped Mephisto didn't land directly in the middle of the circle.