[Grimm sees their confusion at his words but does not elaborate. Perhaps once they learn more of themself, to feel and contextualize why such things follow the Vessel even if they ever try to shake it...then he would.
The notes in the song have changed but it still is the song of a Vessel. The dark and sorrowful history of the Abyss and the Pale King will follow them.
There is nothing that Grimm can hear within the Black Egg Temple. The call for help is not for either the Troupe Master nor the God of Nightmares, even if it pulled at the edges of the darkest realm. It was a call made by the sleepless, of a once-strong seal. Of a scared, dying child.
Do not hope. (Help me.)
They tug on his cloak and Grimm looks down and smiles before standing again.]
And on we go, my friend.
[The adventure out of the Forgotten Crossroads are uneventful for the most part. The husks are back in full force but defeating them is easy and frankly Grimm is not in the mood to really draw it out into a dance. So up the rope they go to Dirtmouth.
The tiny town is silent as they both walk out of the well but as they move along the empty houses and the one remaining bug who skitters out of Grimm's way but looks at the Vessel with curiosity, soon music begins to float on the air. The red writing on the signs nearby point them in the direction of red tents and the Grimmsteads that stare in the pair's direction.
Brumm is standing outside, looking back and forward for his Master. Grimm knew the Nightmare King's voice before the Ritual would attract the attention of his Troupe and the words themselves were not comforting. Brumm may not speak much but his actions spoke to his nervousness. He catches the larger bug's attention with a wave before looking down at the Vessel.]
Here we are, the tents of the Grimm Troupe. Our home in the realm of reality.
no subject
The notes in the song have changed but it still is the song of a Vessel. The dark and sorrowful history of the Abyss and the Pale King will follow them.
There is nothing that Grimm can hear within the Black Egg Temple. The call for help is not for either the Troupe Master nor the God of Nightmares, even if it pulled at the edges of the darkest realm. It was a call made by the sleepless, of a once-strong seal. Of a scared, dying child.
Do not hope.
(Help me.)
They tug on his cloak and Grimm looks down and smiles before standing again.]
And on we go, my friend.
[The adventure out of the Forgotten Crossroads are uneventful for the most part. The husks are back in full force but defeating them is easy and frankly Grimm is not in the mood to really draw it out into a dance. So up the rope they go to Dirtmouth.
The tiny town is silent as they both walk out of the well but as they move along the empty houses and the one remaining bug who skitters out of Grimm's way but looks at the Vessel with curiosity, soon music begins to float on the air. The red writing on the signs nearby point them in the direction of red tents and the Grimmsteads that stare in the pair's direction.
Brumm is standing outside, looking back and forward for his Master. Grimm knew the Nightmare King's voice before the Ritual would attract the attention of his Troupe and the words themselves were not comforting. Brumm may not speak much but his actions spoke to his nervousness. He catches the larger bug's attention with a wave before looking down at the Vessel.]
Here we are, the tents of the Grimm Troupe. Our home in the realm of reality.