OOC: Feel free to still join, just act as though you've been here all along.
Wrex greeted Alya much in the same way he did with the other outsiders. He noticed the gloves on her hands and made sure to give her personal space. He wasn't sure if it was a religious reason and didn't want to offend. But he knew Manist could be quite strict, not that he minded. So was Necrova. He direct one of the attendants to take the painting and assured Alya that the Ascendant would receive it without issue.
He then greeted the Rokkenjimans next. "It is my pleasure to welcome you Empress, Crown Princess, and Governor." He winced slightly as they walked inside. Nyx wasn't completely ignorant of what occurred outside its borders, so he knew that not all of the guests were on the best of terms. The Coalition would be respectful to all today, the guests own political grudges were on them.
Next was Empress Ælirn. He bowed deeply to her head nod. Her unique garb caught his eye, and he was fascinated by her scar- the Nythymn had a similar practices.
Closing up the group was the Achkaerin delegation. The Suzerain greeted and ushered them inside with the rest.
The purification ritual almost went off without a hitch. When Alya spoke up, the lead attendant froze for a second. He motioned over for another servant and whispered something in their ear before they hurried off. He walked over to Alya. "I completely understand. We have taken certain precautions in the event of this occurring." As if one cue, the servant returned and held out a gloved hand, in the middle of his palm an islamic rosary with a crescent moon attached. "We can not guarantee the safety and purity of your soul without the purification, but you can chance the protection of your own god. I doubt they would fail to honor one as devout as you."
With that the lead attendant returned to his position at the head of the room and completed the purification by uttering the holy incantation. As he led them down the hallway to the staircase, he answered the questions in the order they were asked, starting with Klara's.
"The pattens are ancient holy script. The runes inside the circles are the letters of Celestial, the language of the Gods. A mostly dead language, only really used in religious ceremony. We use circles for a number of rituals and religious events, including certain prayers. Specific patterns mean specific things. The ones used on you are a combination of ancient archaic circles. The main base is the same that any believer must go through to view the Crowning, but it is combined with a protection spell for unbelievers. The ceremony is very powerful, in a sense part of the Goddess spirit will enter the ritual chamber. If your bodies are not properly shielded, your souls could be corrupted. That is something we would dearly hope to avoid. In simple manners I believe a direct translation of the runes in the circle would be...'Oh Lord of Death, please grace this one with mercy and do not feast upon them.'" The attendant smiled. While the outsiders may not buy into it, this was a matter of the upmost importance to the Black Crypt.
Ælirn's question was next, and an extremely insightful one. "There is a forbidden room hidden within the Crypt. The room is said to contain a direct portal to the realm of death- Necra's kingdom. A number of holy figures are said to have gone through this portal, although none have ever returned. So this is a Crypt for them. There also are the bodies of the Avatars. The Necrova is descended from the Pantheon of the Hallowed. There are actually 9 Gods, but we chose to focus more on one. Our Gods can walk among the earth, but to do so they must create a vessel- a human body to contain part of their spirit. These are known as Avatars. Anyone can claim to be an Avatar, but if provide by the church they are known as Sanctified. The Black Crypt has a room filled with the bodies of Sanctified Avatars of both Necra and Reaver, another God. Reaver is special because Necra is deeply and utter in love with them. But there is a tragedy to this. Reaver is the God of Madness, a shapeshifter who has forgotten their true form. As such, Reaver has spend thousands of years living different lives hoping to regain their memory. All the while, Necra waits along and forgotten. It is the hope of Necra's followers that by entombing the bodies of their Avatars together, we might bring their souls together once again."
It was at this point that they reached the staircase. It was narrow and spiralled upwards. They only had to climb two flights up. The attendant answered any final questions before they reached the ritual chamber.
The ritual chamber was a large mostly empty room. Along the wall to the right was a huge stack of gifts and presents. Those that the foreigners had given to the attendants were among them. "If anyone is still carrying a gift for the Ascendant, I would direct them to place it among the pile."
There were a number of simple wooden chairs in rows to the left. Among them were five individuals, the current Coalition Delegation, minus the Suzerain who was likely on his way up now. There was the beautiful and young Vaticinator Vizla. She wore a thin lace cloth around her eyes, covering them but not obstructing her view. In her arms, was a baby girl, dressed in the finest and riches silks along with golden jewels- Empress Qi'rrow. Next to her was Archdruid Iaxxodril. He was a thin and man, wearing simple black robes. Rounding up the group was Matriarch Arre’a and Ionia Maar Velkin. The Matriarch was wearing a massive black dress, her face obscured by a lace veil. Velkin was dressed in ceremonial combat armor. He wore thin leather amor around his legs, his stomach and chest exposed, save for a leather harness. His body was covered in intricate purple paint.
The attendant led the foreigners towards the chairs, "While you meet Suzerain Wrex outside, here is the rest of the Coalition Delegation- Empress Qi'rrow, Vaticinator Vizla, Archdruid Iaxxodril, Matriarch Arre'a and Ionia Maar Velkin." The Delegates all bowed when named, except the Empress of course. It was at that moment that the Suzerain entered. "It seems the ceremony is about to begin, if you would all take your seats." The attendant hurried out of the room, closed the door on his way out.
It was then the the foreigners began to notice the bundle in the center of the room. There was a black lace cloth covering something crumpled on the ground. The bundle was in the center of another massive circle, this one dwarfing the purification ones from earlier. And instead of having been drawn with chalk, it was carved out of the stone floor. Also, along the edge of the circle were five black goblets, equally placed apart. Those with the strongest eyesight might have realized that the bundle on the floor was actually a woman. She was wearing a long white skirt and no shirt, although the cloth provided enough coverage to ease the more prudish. There was a long silence, broken only by a cry from the Empress, who was quickly silence by the Vaticinator.
Then the woman in the circle began chanting, her voice was barely a whisper and it was impossible to make out the distinct words. Although her chant was in Celestial, and none of the foreigners would have been able to understand anyways. She slowly began to rise from the ground as five figures approached from out of the darkness. They each took a position next to one of the black goblets. Normally this part of the ceremony would take place in Lower Vir, the common language of the Coalition. But for the sake of the the guest they had changed it to english. The woman- Natrax turned her back to the audience and dropped the cloth around her.
"Necra I ask to be deemed worthy."
At this moment the five figures each produced a knife. In turn they cut their arms and let the blood drip into the goblet before them. As the goblets overfilled with blood, the blood began to drip into the circle, slowly running along the little tunnel carved into the ground. Once the circle was fulled cover in blood, the first of the figures pick up his goblet and approached Natrax.
"I am the Highborn. My blood is pure and rich. May it grant you the nobility necessary to lead this nation." With that he tipped his goblet and Natrax dank his blood. This continued until she had sampled from all five.
"I am the Azrul. May my blood grant you the reverence necessary to lead this nation."
"I am the Vi. May my blood grant you the foresight necessary to lead this nation."
"I am the Agni. May my blood grant you the pain necessary to lead this nation."
"I am the Jerlic. My blood is impure and unholy. May it grant you the conflict necessary to lead this nation."
With the last one, the figures reached back into the darkness, taking their goblets with them. Natrax knelt down, her back still to the onlookers.
"Natrax... Do you believe yourself worth?" The voice came from across the room. There was figure, standing just at the edge of the shadow. His features impossible to make out.
"Yes." Natrax' voice was strong and without hint of hesitation.
"Do you believe yourself beloved by Necra?"
"Yes."
"We shall see." The figure crossed out of the shadows and walked towards Natrax. He carried with him a longsword. "What do you offer the Goddess of Death as payment for her blessing?"
Again, without hesitation Natrax held out her right arm, her dominant arm. "A worthy sacrifice. We shall see if she accepts." The figure crouched down and picked the black cloth from the ground, wrapping it around Natrax' arm. He then produced a match and lit the cloth on fire. Natrax shuddered from the pain. All could see her back tense from trying to control her urge to put out the flames. The smell of charred flesh began to fill the room. Then the man brought his longsword down with all his strength and speed, completely severing Natrax' arm. She screamed out in pain and it continued to burn on the ground. Natrax began to vomit as the man picked her up and carried her out of the room.
There was silence for quite some time. Then Vizla stood. "Now we wait to see if Necra will take her soul or allow Natrax to remain alive to do her bidding in Mundus."
