The Royal Order of Silly Hats
The Ritual of Summoning
Our lord slumbers in the depths and we are rays of dawn. On his coiled back, we will ride the current of a new era. The secular kings of our land are born of the Earth and return to it — we will not.
This country’s people are mere mortals, clay golems in human guise: do not be deceived by their semblance of life, for they are puppets with uncut strings. Only the awakened will join the ebb and flow of the sea, the tide of everlasting life. We will cleanse this land with the roiling waters of our faith.
This is the new age, the Third Age! In these waters, clay becomes flesh and flesh renewed eternal!
We need only decipher the ancient prophesy:
All those whose earthbound souls would truly live,
Link arms stained red by blood you freely give,
Light herald’s torch by magefire’s sacred glow,
Will waves to churn and willful gales to blow.
In traceries, let mighty coils take form,
Lines of salt, of seven seas, spent seafoam,
Lord of serpents, rise from the murky ocean,
Do you hear our song, our words of devotion?
Regal offerings pale beside our own,
Old enemy, reduced to shell and bone,
We give to you the mighty dragon turtle,
Now hear us, Lord. We only wish to serve you!