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Hecate
Incense's smokes flit to the moon, while the spheres of fire, irradiate with their warmth the gloomy forest. Dark Priestesses recite their mysterious prayers, accompanied from hisses of snakes and the barking of dogs. From the thick fog materializes a pale woman whose triple face it is illuminated from the icy moon. Under his feet take shape the deadly spirits, that passing by dresses thin up to …