Fuck it. Enough stalling.
"Well, I guess it's time to see if diamond dogs really do have diamonds in them..."
Posey proceeds with the ceremony as she reads from her tome, which sounds like a series of animalistic growls and gutteral moans, punctuated by shrieking howls. She does this for a long period of time, but visibly hurries as she races to outrun the death of her subject.
At the end of her ceremony, Posey's words become more intelligible, and she closes her tome, chanting a poem of her own writing:
"In the shadows deep, where the darkness bleeds, We call upon the ancient needs, Y̴̤͍͕̪̣̲̯̍̐̅̊ȇ̶̢̛̛̘̦̦̑͒̽̀̎̍̑͗̚͠E̷̪͎̖͕̭͎̥̐̓̉͒̓͐͋̉́̉̇̅̚̕̚͜n̵̖͇͋́̎̐͋͒͆͝Ơ̴̛̤̖̯̲͂͌̏̒̈͋͌̌͋g̶̢͉̬̠̣̭̳͙̹̝͈͆̔̓̏̈́͘͜ͅH̴͕̮͛͗ù̵̱̮̘̖͍̹̙͎̼̦̣̉̓͊̎́̿̇̕̕͘̕͘̕, Lord of the Abyssal Maw, We offer this life to thy dreadful claw.
By the glint of diamond and the howl of night, We seek your favor, dark and bright, The flesh of the beast, the spirit of dread, To stir the dead from their shadowed bed.
O Harbinger of Despair and Wrath, Hear us in this unholy path, Agire, rise from the earth so cold, In the name of sacrifice, behold.
To you, Y̴̤͍͕̪̣̲̯̍̐̅̊ȇ̶̢̛̛̘̦̦̑͒̽̀̎̍̑͗̚͠E̷̪͎̖͕̭͎̥̐̓̉͒̓͐͋̉́̉̇̅̚̕̚͜n̵̖͇͋́̎̐͋͒͆͝Ơ̴̛̤̖̯̲͂͌̏̒̈͋͌̌͋g̶̢͉̬̠̣̭̳͙̹̝͈͆̔̓̏̈́͘͜ͅH̴͕̮͛͗ù̵̱̮̘̖͍̹̙͎̼̦̣̉̓͊̎́̿̇̕̕͘̕͘̕, the Hyena’s might, We surrender this life to the endless night, Grant us the boon, the ancient rite, To summon forth the cleric's light.
By the blood we shed and the darkness we cast, Let the veil of the grave be torn at last, We beseech thee, heed our sacrificial plea, And let Agire rise, set the fallen free.
Oh Y̴̤͍͕̪̣̲̯̍̐̅̊ȇ̶̢̛̛̘̦̦̑͒̽̀̎̍̑͗̚͠E̷̪͎̖͕̭͎̥̐̓̉͒̓͐͋̉́̉̇̅̚̕̚͜n̵̖͇͋́̎̐͋͒͆͝Ơ̴̛̤̖̯̲͂͌̏̒̈͋͌̌͋g̶̢͉̬̠̣̭̳͙̹̝͈͆̔̓̏̈́͘͜ͅH̴͕̮͛͗ù̵̱̮̘̖͍̹̙͎̼̦̣̉̓͊̎́̿̇̕̕͘̕͘̕, great Avenging Angel, Beast who prowls the realm beyond the gray! Y̴̤͍͕̪̣̲̯̍̐̅̊ȇ̶̢̛̛̘̦̦̑͒̽̀̎̍̑͗̚͠E̷̪͎̖͕̭͎̥̐̓̉͒̓͐͋̉́̉̇̅̚̕̚͜n̵̖͇͋́̎̐͋͒͆͝Ơ̴̛̤̖̯̲͂͌̏̒̈͋͌̌͋g̶̢͉̬̠̣̭̳͙̹̝͈͆̔̓̏̈́͘͜ͅH̴͕̮͛͗ù̵̱̮̘̖͍̹̙͎̼̦̣̉̓͊̎́̿̇̕̕͘̕͘̕, favored Son of L̸̘̯͙̮̼͇͇̦̲̭̭͇̘̗̼̼͒̀̋͊̂̄́̅̊̃́̒̀̚͜á̴̗̪̟̰̳͖̖̂̂̍̂Ṁ̴̧͎̭̺̟̤͚͓̜̳̦̌̂̓̈̍̂͜a̶̢̨̜̭̳̫̠͍͈̖͖̅̄̎̊̃͆͋̎͛̈́S̴̫͈̣̫͉̃͋͗̈́̉̍͌̊͑̓̃͗̆̚͝ḥ̵͉̱̰̖̪̠͚̰̝͈̺͇̲͇̳͗͂̆̍̐̈͌̿̍͊́́̐͑̑̂̕͜Ṱ̵̢̭̱̥͎̩̱̟͙͔̤̤̼̉̇̌̓̅͊͘̕̚ͅu̸̢̢̹̰̝̞̫̣̜̙͙̩͕̖̟͎̥̅̔̆͌̀͗̎͗̔̕̚͝͝, let us hear you Howl, for what you smell before you is your Prey!"
She then draws her knife and plunges it into her own chest, leaving it embedded in her chest as she coughs up rotten blood while gurgling the somatic components for a spell.
Posey expends two spell slots with versatile spellcaster to cast Necrotic Bloat, the cyst she implanted in Sasha's chest swelling to enormous size, dealing 8d6 damage (no saving throws), half of which is vile
[8d6 = 32]She then immediately rips the knife out of her own chest and pierces it into the cyst, popping it in a shower of gore as a coup-de-grace
And now, the moment of truth (refer to
>>175669 for any additional mods that apply)
[1d20+20 = (14+20) = 34]