To Conjure a “Horrible Great Dragon”: A Lunar Mansion Experiment from the Cunning Man’s Grimoire

Pre-Ritual Notes

One of the experiments I decided to perform from the Cunning Man’s Grimoire was the operation to conjure a “horrible great dragon to appeare in the ayre”. This ritual is to be performed when the Moon is in the 11th Mansion (though one of the authors of the text mentions it’s likely supposed to be the 12th due to the imagery of the that Mansion actually including a dragon) and is a fascinating example of a blending of ritual magic, folk magic and astrological image magic together into one single operation.

The ritual prescribes the creation of a small, red copper ring, with a hollow space inside that would allow one to place parchment with names of power written upon it. Unfortunately, the original text is unclear about the precise creation of the ring; if it needs to be made during an astrological election of its respective mansion, or if it is enough to simply perform the ritual during the appropriate time. One argument for the latter case is that the majority of the rings required in the Mansion rituals given in the text are hollow copper rings. This indicates perhaps that the original author of the text was only using one ring for multiple rituals, exchanging the parchments within. This is just a guess, of course, and as such one of the purposes of this experiment was also to see if the ritual works with a copper ring forged outside of the Lunar Mansion—as well as, of course, to see if it really would summon a dragon spirit in the air.

For the creation of the ring, I decided to go with a plain copper band with the names Qerminat, Baralama, Canempria, and Coriet engraved on it, instead of a hollow one with the same words on parchment inside. As for the ritual’s timing itself, I decided that to be less strict than I would require for a Talismanic one, and opted instead to have the Moon be on the Ascendant at the time of the 11th Mansion. The ceremony itself is relatively short; it simply involves a spoken prayer and a symbol to be etched on the ground using the ring.

Other additions to the experiment that were my own included bringing with me the Fifth Pentacle of Mars for protection, as well as the Scourging Rod from Magia Naturalis et Innaturalis with which I can quickly draw a circle about me in the dirt, should the spirit be malefic in nature. (This is, after all, a possibility, especially if it belongs to the 12th Mansion considering that the 12th shows a man and a dragon fighting).

I was quite excited to give this operation a try; past visions of dragons I’ve received through Sfinga in dreams have been utterly awe-inspiring, as has witnessing first-hand her Zmaj’s miraculous control over healing, destruction, and the weather. In light of the central role of Slavic zmaj lore and magic in her life, I was very eager to conjure this Lunar Mansion-derived dragon, especially as it might allow me to see a non-zmaj dragon by myself for the first time.

Post-Ritual Notes (First Attempt – 11th Mansion)

The first attempt at performing this ritual was done during the 11th Mansion. I prepared my tools and set out to a nearby dirt track along a large field. I drew the seal in the dirt and spoke the conjuration. Suddenly, I felt a surge of strength and vitality churn within me. With my spiritual sight, I saw a white serpent appear before me—on the ground, however, not in the air. Its spiritual form emerged physically in a translucent guise.

I greeted it, asking for its name, to which it first responded claimed to be Jazariel, the chief of the Tribal Spirits in the Faustian texts, and also the celestial ruler of the 13th Mansion (it is notable he also appears as a white serpent). However, after I pressed the spirit, it quickly confessed to another name instead to replace the first. I continued by inquiring as to the obtaining of wealth and also of the nature of local British dragon spirits. I did not receive satisfactory answers from him, with the conversation moving in circles for the most part. Eventually, I dismissed him, not sure what to make of the operation. That is, until I returned home and researched the second name he had given me. While I won’t mention what it was, it is safe to say that I had been had. This first spirit who appeared had likely been some sort of trickster. I found this more amusing than frustrating though, and looked forward to performing the operation again during the 12th Mansion the next day.

Post-Ritual Notes (Second attempt – 12th Mansion)

This second operation was performed while the moon was in the mid-heaven. The conjuration went well—the clouds immediately darkened from what had previously been a considerably bright and sunny day by English standards. Even the sky became dark, with the exception of the South Eastern corner along the horizon where the daytime moon sat overlooking the earth. Recognizing that, this being a Lunar Mansion experiment, the dragon would likely be related somehow to the moon, I decided to gaze at it for a little while. As I did so, clouds began to form where previously the sky had been entirely clear. They covered the moon in the shape of a claw, grabbing it as a pearl. When I took note of this, an all-white dove flew past me through the trees.

Suddenly, my spiritual sight perceived very clearly a large drake looming in the sky, its form two-headed and pure white. Like a wyvern, it had only feet and no arms. I greeted it, only to be ignored. I conjured it by the ring on my finger, by the names of my spirits, the Holy Trinity, and finally one of the names of Sfinga’s Zmaj guardian that I have been allowed to know, to which it finally paid me attention. Its demeanor, however, still seemed disinterested (after all, it is not like I had her Zmaj near me to bind it—she is back in Canada at this time!). I greeted him once more, asked for his name, and promptly received one. I inquired as to his nature, to which he replied:

“I move the wind, I shake the waves, I break ships with my tail and swallow them. I cause fleets to sink and storms to fall upon my enemies.”

It seemed that the way to get him to talk was to ask about himself! As I learned through our short conversation, he was a fairly boastful spirit—something Sfinga had told me to expect from certain kinds of dragons. Much to my delight, shortly after the ritual, I re-read the description of the 12th Lunar Mansion in various sources and saw that it has a malefic influence over ships and sea-men, confirming the spirit’s nature.

I received some advice from the spirit concerning how to further awaken the spiritual senses and utilize their discernment. Shortly afterwards, I thanked him and he departed. I was and remain greatly pleased that the experiment was not only successful, but that I was able to confirm for myself that the 12th Mansion is the most appropriate for the conjuration of its lunar dragon. Since I have his name, I definitely plan on calling this particular spirit in future 12th Mansions to ask further questions.

Libellus Veneri Nigro Sacer (Pt 2): The Primary Tools

In my first post, I gave a brief overview of the Libellus Veneri Nigro Sacer or Tuba Veneris, outlining my intentions to pursue the grimoire’s operation faithfully. This third of May was not only a Friday, but also fell within the range of the new moon; the combination specified for the consecration of the Seal of Venus, the Horn of Venus, and the Book of Venus. Needless to say, I was greatly looking forward to finally embarking on creating these three important instruments for the conjuration of the spirits.

I had previously acquired a brand new leather journal and two new inks (one black and one dove’s blood) to fashion my own “Consecrated Book of the Black Venus”. The Book must be written with the feather of a dove, which can be quite challenging as dove feathers tend to be so short. I made a very simple offering to the local land spirits the Friday before requesting to find a dove feather as I walked, and came across a longer one within half an hour. Satisfied, I took it home and cut it into a makeshift quill. Over the course of the Venus hours, I copied down the Tuba Veneris, including the additional titles in my red dove’s blood. For the first page, I reproduced a likeness of the female Venus standing with her own Horn and Seal, crowned with her symbol over her head. Despite the small feather, I did my best to keep my writing uniform and neat, and I am pleased to say that I’m quite happy with the end result now that it is complete. The rest of the pages will be used for writing down what the six spirits teach me, both about themselves and whatever I question them about in general, as well as the secret signs, hand gestures, and proof of our pacts they produce.

For the Seal of Venus, I cut a hexagram out of copper in the Venus hour using newly purchased tin snips. The grimoire instructs the magician to wear the seal around their neck during the evocation, so I drilled a very small hole into one of the vertices so that a copper jump ring may be affixed along with a chain. Engraving the characters came easily, especially as I’ve already had practice carving various gemstones and metals in the creation of astrological Picatrix talismans (whose elections Salt has been very adept at finding). I passed it through the smoke of verbena, myrtle, and musk and wrapped it in linen before heading to work on the Horn.

I went through great lengths to ensure that the Horn met the specifications laid out in the grimoire. Under the guidance of my Zmaj—my primary guardian and tutelary spirit—I went through a few extra steps in preparing the bull’s horn for the consecration. One of these included another wash in a bath made up of seven Venusian herbs, each prayed over in the Venus hour, in order to further stir the spirit of the bull within it. When I retrieved it from the water, the energetic change noted was immediate. I rinsed it with water and scrubbed any last bits of dirt, blood, and grime out with a toothbrush, and then similarly engraved it in the nighttime Venus hour on the Friday new moon. The engravings appear a little faint when photographed due to the hardness and colouration of the horn, but they can be easily seen in person and I’m very happy with how evenly spaced they ended up being, especially for the seals of the six demons.

Finally, after having passed the Horn through the smoke, I wrapped it in linen and moved on to consecrate the Book. Once baptized and prayed over, I suffumigated it and covered it in green cloth as per the grimoire’s instructions. Since time was of the essence, I made sure that I was already dressed to go outside while preparing the instruments. I’m quite fortunate in that I live a ten minute walk away from a large forest, so it didn’t take long to carry the three instruments inside, locate the nearest stream, and bury them right underneath the bridge which crossed it.

While the process may seem straightforward when written out, the whole day ended up being fraught with omens. Though I didn’t set an alarm for it, I woke up exactly at sunrise when the first Venus hour of the day began. I took the opportunity to pray and then returned to sleep. I would then wake six more times, each after a short but intense, highly-charged dream full of chthonic journeying and magical conflict. I won’t speculate on the natures of these dreams too much, especially as I’ll hopefully be able to confront the six demons of the Tuba Veneris face-to-face in the coming months, but needless to say I was quite taken by the visions. I found that I was physically exhausted upon waking, far more so than I recall being in a long time. The dreams felt like a peculiar combination of test and augury.

Later, as soon as I ascended up the path which led into the forest and its creek, having just buried the instruments, I was suddenly overcome with the exact opposite sensation from how I felt in the morning. Instead of tired, I experienced a prolonged feeling of ecstasy, marked by a surge of power and authority that accompanied me all the way home. I didn’t know quite what to make of it at the time—it was certainly unexpected given that the consecration of the instruments wasn’t even technically complete—but it was definitely empowering. It’s difficult to put precisely into words, but I couldn’t shake the visceral feeling of something “clicking”; that the procedures had been carried out correctly, and that the authority of Anael was being installed into my sphere through the carrying out of these rites. I cross-checked my intuition with divination and then returned to bed, sleeping peacefully in anticipation of their retrieval.

The next day, in the nighttime Venus hour, I returned once more under the cover of darkness to collect my tools. They now sit in my temple space next to the incense blend, inks, and dove’s quill, awaiting future use as I move on to prepare the seals of the demons and the circle itself.