To no avail.

You reach out and feebly say, “No.” Sadly you then pass out from the strain. When you wake up you are sopping wet with sweat. “Fuck, when did it get so hot in here?” Looking around you see the items you hid with your spell are sitting on the bed. Four black magic orbs, the scroll that told what you were, a wicked looking dagger, a bunch of weapons that now look quite heavy, and a now lifeless gem on its strap. “Great, so I am a bald human in hell, possibly the literal hell, maybe somewhere else, but I don’t suppose anywhere called hell is a nice place to be. Oh ya and the devils here can look at you and see what you are.” You scratch your cute bald head while thinking, “Wait? So why did he think I was a devil? Oh. What if I am still a devil? Just not full of magic. Fuck. Well I guess I am crazy as I am standing here talking to myself.”

Looking it all over you begin to get the idea that you might still be able to do one of the rituals using the orbs that you have. “Might as well try. I could probably sell a magic weapon. Works in all the video games, right?” You say with a laugh. It is creepy drawing symbols on the floor in your blood but in remarkably short time you have the circle and mystical symbols all around the largest orb and a neatly stacked pile of the five barbed javelins. You are pretty sure it will power all of them into some kind of bomb or something, one use magic weapons, but powerful. You recite the words of the ritual and suddenly the orb flows into the symbols of the circle. When it all fades you can see a faint glow from the javelins. Concentrating you discover they even tell you what they do, and it is exactly as you thought. They will explode with hellfire when they impact their target.

“Cool. Now the dagger.” One more orb and another circle, this time, influenced by the heat here, you try other symbols, ones of cold, and you have a dagger that enhances the skill of the user, is sharper, chills the bearer to provide protection from fire and heat, and will blaze with cold fire on command that doesn’t harm the user.

When you are through you decide to keep the smallest orb, the one from the archer demon, to use on a ranged weapon for yourself. Using the bedsheets and the dagger you then make yourself a simple tunic and simple moccasin like shoes and go search the city for someone to sell your magic items to, and possibly get the hell out of hell.