[ Acquired Curse of Strength ]

[ Strength Increased! ]

[ Acquired Lore: Curse Walker ]

I feel as though I need to rest longer. The vision I was wrenched under had spit me back out in a weakened way. Though, I do feel stronger of body, my mind feels morphed, as if it were some child’s toy that has been played with roughly, and left out in a cold rain. There is a feeling too, most peculiar, inside my rousted marrow, as though alive and ignited. This heat spreads through me and then dissipates.

We are reaching the precipice of our purpose, says the face, and all that remains to us is your Pact.

Not knowing what else to do, I shuffle with naked feet and stand in front of the face.

The Pact is a boon that only those who enter the Sanctum may access. Despite, the Pact does not guarantee you shall survive in the Burrow for longer than it takes you to reopen the door.

Once you are named in the Pact, you will be changed, and you will be pursued. The Espers cannot abide a Pact, and will no longer turn a blind eye as they did before. No, now you will be worth notice. A purely incensing creature you shall be to them, your very existence will induce rage, hatred and wrath in their life fibers.

There may still be others, haunting the passages of the Burrow. Those, like yourself, with a Pact, and perhaps those yet to find their route. With caution must you approach these beings, as the Burrow may have twisted them, rending their minds or their nature. It is wise to ignore or avoid these few altogether.

So, there may be others, trapped out there as I was once. This is a thought causes me doubt. Would I want to encounter such creatures? I am afraid of these things that are like me, yet still not alike. I hope that I do not have that misfortune.

Now, said the face, witness. Bear the burden, and accept your mantle.

The fire from within me that had abated, was now raging. It fills my insides, and just as it feels almost too much to contain, it begins to spill out of me, flaring from my pores. It is colorless fire. I can see it. It flickers and it grows, and every inch of my body is enveloped in the white-hot flame.

Though, I find that I do not succumb to it. My body is stalwart against the blaze, and I accept its heat and its rage, and once it fades, I am changed.

[ Acquired Pact ]

          The Beacon

    Candle + Kish’s Sword + Curse of Strength

My body feels more fully filled, heavy with the thick muscle of a laborer. My bones have shifted and my frame is wider, while my legs and arms have grown longer. I stand taller and straight of back, devoid of the curve that fear had instilled. I lift the sword with more ease, and as I examine it, I know it more fully. It is a rusted thing, smaller than I remembered when I chose it, for this new body demands different requirements, and this body knows a blade. I can wield this.

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Ah, the Beacon. You, far moreso than all other Pacts, will find a difficult road inside the annals of the Burrow. The Beacon is despised most by the Espers. You are called the Beacon for your nature. You will draw Espers to you, and they will find your presence an assault to their own existence. You will drive them mad with hatred, for to them, you are the most vulgar of obscenities. A repugnant and blasphemous beast that will cause them to go wild with malice and a rage that devours.

They will pursue you above all others. Most intensely, will this be, when your candle is alight. Yours is a path that I wish I did not see you take, but for choice. I do have pity for you, for this configuration will bring you untold grief, and pressure you in its strife.

I am angry.

Why was I not warned of this? The face has mislead me, I think. I cannot abide a falsehood, and it seems as though I have been duped, I fear, by a motive most rancorous.

You had to choose, my little lost child. This was no betrayal. It is the form this journey takes. You and I are both bound by our separate laws. There is no paramount formula, nor perfect codex for one's Pact. Your choices decide your Pact, and the abilities it bears--but all are equal.

I calm my ire, and look down at my body. I am still in scraps, and I know that they won’t do. The voice seems to be aware, as well.

Before you leave, you may access the chest. In its belly you shall find raiments of protection. They are but simple in their purpose, their function faded from the many ages they have spent in the Sanctum. But they will support your efforts until you find more suitable armaments. Go now to the chest, and take.

I see the chest in the corner of the chamber, and I approach it, slapping open the top and removing from within the various items of my conquest.

[ Acquired Weathered Leather Breastplate +1 Guard ]

[ Acquired Weathered Leather Boots +1 Guard ]

[ Acquired Weathered Leather Greaves +1 Guard ]

[ Acquired Weathered Leather Bacinet +1 Guard ]

I slip my spoils on to my body, and feel comforted. These will do. I turn back to the face. I open my mouth to speak, but find that my tongue is still dead inside my mouth.

You are not able to speak, still. Perhaps this will change in time. Before you draw back into the Burrow, I have but one final message:

You, my lost child, shall be named. I will bequeath this to you, but keep it secret. Let not another soul know your True Name, or you will be beholden to them, they with power over you. Do not even hold this name in your mind around anything that moves or draws breath, for there are those that can rip the utterances of thought from the membrane of your mind.

I name you Maigo. You nature is forged, and your True Name spoken. Protect this.

[Acquired True Name: Maigo ]

Now named, you have a role to fulfill. I mark you with reaching the surface, and acquiring an item most important.

I will not speak its name here. That is something I dare not. But you must find this item, or you shall remain forever in the Burrow until it eats you.

Now, named and marked, you are tasked with finding the Circle Altar. That is your first Event, and once you have reached your quarry, you will be rewarded.

You are as Kish was, lost child Maigo. You are as many others before you. The old stories tell us the way through this trial, if one can parse the detail. I have spent a many countless age with the old stories, and still I have not divined all there is to glean.

There are other Sanctums, and more chambers elsewise. Finding them will lead you closer to your goal.

I look down at the candle. I have but one match remaining and my heart flutters with this unfortunate knowledge.

I will gift you, the Beacon, with a tool. There are more within the dark deeps of the Burrow, but you must unearth them alone. Here, Maigo.Take.

[ Acquired Matchstick ]

[ Acquired Matchstick ]

[ Acquired Matchstick ]

[ Acquired Matchstick ]

Keep your mind clear within the passages. You are a vessel for this Pact, and you may find its will to be overbearing and perhaps overwhelming. If the Pact’s strength conquers you, there is little to be done.

Now, go. Find the Circle Altar, my lost child Maigo. I will await you here or there, in another Sanctum. But you will be alone in the Burrow, and my voice will be deaf to your ears there.

The door to the Sanctum opens on its own, and without being able to speak, I cannot find any reason to loiter. I strike a matchstick against the emory, and press its tongue to the wick of the candle. The flame takes. I draw the sword.

Without looking back, I step into the void of the Burrow. As the doorway behind me wrenches closed, I am once more, plunged into darkness.

[ Acquired Event: The Circle Altar ]