As the caped-clad acolyte approached the ancient temple, he beheld its crumbling doors with a practiced reverence. This edifice was older than his order itself, and even though it had not been opened for a thousand years, the urgency of the situation demanded it, so the time had come. He lowered his hood and opened his book so that he could bellow the incantation in the tongue of his ancestors as he had been instructed:
În această zi și în această oră,
Am convoca mai departe puterea vechi.
L-am citat la puterea de șapte ori șapte,
Astfel încât cu ea s-ar putea comanda puterea cerului.”
As he had been taught for several decades how to read, write, and speak this archaic dialect, his recitation of it was done with a flawless accent. Furthermore, he knew well the elegance of its translation:
In this day and in this hour,
I summon forth the ancient power.
I summon it to the strength of seven times seven,
So that with it I might command the might of heaven.
The almost fossilized doors creaked and groaned opened by the invisible influence linked to the raw power of the aged incantation as the the dirt caked across its middle crease fractured and the dust fell from its hinges. The two, enormous, stone, inscribed doors flung open with a deafening thud!
The young magus nearly dropped his tome in response to the severity of the door's thunderclap. As he and the rest of his party recovered, the barbarian looked over at his magus companion and offered “Well, that was somewhat simple.”
“Do not be too certain my friend. We still have to find the Bullas Pacis, and there is no telling what traps or undead creatures stand between us and the altar.”
“Undead creatures?!” the bandit chimed in after eavesdropping. “Nobody said anything about 'undead creatures' when I signed on for this gig!”
“Fear not my tiny friend,” the barbarian reassured “any undead creatures that stand in my way will learn how to die permanently!”
“Yes that is all well and good,” the magus agreed “let us venture forth so that we may retrieve that relic and broker a peace for our nation.”
“Yeah, that's all well and good,” the bandit retorted “but how do you know this thing-a-ma-jig even still exists, and if so even works?”
“I know because I believe.” That was all that the magus said, and he began walking with faithful footsteps to the prehistoric archway.
“That's good enough for me!” The barbarian followed with an adventurous gait.
“ 'I have faith,' ” the bandit sneered. “Well, I have faith that this will all end in regret,” he said under his breath. Still, he reluctantly followed his cohorts into the mouth-shaped portal of the colossal stone dragon.
