Thread: The Pact (Walrus and Darkest_Fate)

The Kingdom of Gestalt was in its final throes. Like a man beset by grievous wound it thrashed and writhed, able to do little more than watch as the final remnants of its life slipped away. The beginnings of a plague had begun to creep through the capital, while upon the borders an enemy army prepared to make their move. To blame the grim tidings on but a single person would've been ridiculous, and yet it could hardly denied that the actions of the last king was largely responsible for these recent events. Greedy and prideful, King Ledo va Geiss had made few friends during his tenure as ruler. Enjoying excessive feasts while his people starved, using his royal guard as brutish enforcers, taunting and belittling both enemy and ally alike. The fact that he managed to avoid taking a dagger to the back was often-believed to be a miracle unto itself. Yet, good fortune would only carry him so far. It was upon his twenty-second year that a signs of a plague began to make itself known in the capital of Verdan, claiming a number of victims. The king himself, through a fit of irony, was among the first of the victims. The death of a despot would garner little celebration however. For though his cruel reign might've come to an end it was hard to ignore the mess that he had left for the kingdom. The mess that he had left for her . Even now, two months after taking the crown, Nimue va Geiss would feel the weight of the world upon still resting firmly upon her shoulders. Hardly more than a child, the eighteen-year old had been spared barely even a moment's rest since she'd first accepted her prestigious title. Dealing with greedy nobles, speaking to the people of the city, hearing reports. Since her father's death things had only gotten worse. Not only was there the strange sickness that was creeping through the capital, but there was the matter of the Grimwald Republic as well. Their borders practically touching, the two had always shared something of a rivalry. As far as resources went both had things the other desired, and rumors from her spymaster spoke that republic was preparing troops for manner of assault. Whether their eyes were upon Gestalt or elsewhere Nimue couldn't quite say, though if she had to hazard a guess... Barefeet barely making a noise upon the cold stone floor the young lady would allow herself a small sigh, shoulders slowly slumping as she made her way through the dimly lit tunnel. With her fellow nobles more concerned with filling their coffers than helping the people it felt as though the fate of the kingdom fell solely upon her. Curing the plague, dealing with Grimwald, and a host of other issues that she dared not think about. Royalty or not, for a simply human it was far too much. As such, she had decided to become something more than human. The Rite of Resonance had earned itself a grim reputation throughout the kingdom, and really throughout the world. While they could hardly be called gods, there was no denying that spirits were still far above humans. They responsible for the workings of the world, from weather to the passing of time itself. The ritual itself, however, saw fit to bring them onto equal footing. Through a pact the human and spirit would join souls, entering a mutual relationship. The ritual was both expensive and dangerous, and the idea of forming a pact with a being as great as a spirit was deemed a form of hubris. Nimue did not care though. This was for her people. They would understand, they had too. The tunnel grew ever darker, the only sound being the distant dripping of water. How far was she beneath the palace's surface now? Nimue could only guess. Narrowing her eyes ever so slightly she'd be able to make out the end of the tunnel, a massive door able to be seen. A lone figure shrouded in robes stood to the side. Your Majesty. Well into his elder years, he'd croak out a greeting to the approaching woman. Robes shuffling he'd force his hunched form into a small bow, relaxing only when Nimue gestured for him to stand. No need for formalities, Genwin. Despite everything the girl would manage to force a tired smile onto her lips. Genwin had been in charge of the royal library for as long as she could remember, the man having apparently once been a scholar of some repute. When it came to spirits and rites he was, perhaps, one of the most knowledgeable men in the world. It was for that reason that he had been the sole person she had contacted. She would provide the ingredients, he would setup the ritual. Are the preparations complete? O-Of course. The runes have been drawn, the catalysts set, and at this moment the room is in its ideal state. The rest will depend on you, my queen. With a faint nod she'd approach the door's level, hesitating only for a moment before gripping it. Inhaling she'd give it a sharp yank, wincing as a loud screeching noise ran down the tunnel. Taking a step back she'd watch as the iron door slowly grinded upwards, the dim light of the tunnel shining into the room ahead. Said room in question was cramped and near barren, short of a small pool of water in the middle. Strange symbols were etched into the walls, the name of the spirit they were to contact in a language that had long since died. A strange scent wafted outwards, smelling akin to cinnamon. Here I go. She gulped, closing her eyes for a moment. This was it. Feeling the cold stone beneath her feet she'd enter the small room, coming to a stop before the pool of water. Those of the va Geiss family were known for boasting an almost unethereal beauty, and Nimue herself had been no exception. Milky skin complimented hair that was as white as snow and eyes that were of a rich blue. A shapely figure lay hidden beneath her modest tunic and slacks, showing just the faintest hint of muscle from her training. Those of her family were expected to hone themselves physically as well as mentally. The stresses of the recent months however had done her few favors. Her white hair, drawn back into a ponytail, was askew. Her shimmering eyes had lost a bit of their luster, bags hanging beneath. The way she walked, the way she spoke, the exhaustion she felt was now almost palpable. She could only hope that this would ease her burden. Stepping forward into the pool of lukewarm water Nimue would crouch downward, maneuvering so that she'd float upon her back. Arms and legs spread she'd allow herself to settle. The initial steps of the ritual served to draw the spirit to this very location. It would fall onto Nimue to enter the plane and make contact with it. For that she had to deprive herself of her senses, and allow her soul to drift. It was this part of the ritual that was the most dangerous. It was all too easy for one's spirit to become lost within the plane, forever leaving the body a husk. It was also possible for the soul to be beset upon by the very spirit they wished to forge a link with. At the very least Nimue that the latter would not happen here. The one who she wished to make a pact would no doubt be just as concerned about the state of the kingdom as she. It had to be. The door she'd entered through would slowly close, drowning the room in complete darkness. No sound, no sight, the temperature of the water and room so closely linked that for the girl it felt as though she was floating on thin air. The wetness of her clothing was barely even apparent. ... Seconds. Minutes. Hours. She didn't know how much time had passed. Soon however she'd find that she was no longer floating. The young queen would open her eyes, a white void greeting her. I..did it. She'd blink, taking a single step forward. The ground below felt like marble. I really...really did it. It almost felt too easy. Swallowing the girl took a few more cautious steps, breath still as she eyed her surroundings. Where is it though? The spirit had to be near, right? Had they failed to attract it?