[The nightmare appears to respond to the little Vessel's thoughts, flames swaying and dancing as they think and form vague shapes of whatever comes to mind. Their mind is a quite, still body of water lit by the torches on the shore.
A nightmare requires a mind to exist or they simply would belong to their king, after all.
As the path goes along a sound will invade the Vessel's mind. One that is obviously not to do with their thoughts or biology. It is a heartbeat, slow and steady, and grows in volume as they approach. If the sound is disturbing that is wholly up to the Vessel but it feel...familiar, somehow.
(Stand before the Troupe's dark dream.)
At the end of the path reveals the Nightmare Heart in all of its glory, steadily beating away. The temperature of the room is on the side of unbearably hot and it is lit up with flames that had been lit on thousands of staffs that the Grimmkin normally carry, all jammed into the ground where they would normally sit.
The audience is not here, as it is not time for the show. But the Master of the Troupe is.
Wreathed in scarlet flames and standing tall in the center of the arena is the God of Nightmares. His gaze is fixed on the tiny Vessel and the room bends from the heat and his mere presence. It is not on purpose, however, but instinctive. The Nightmare King was the God over this realm and it responded to him.
Perhaps it gave away where his instincts would lie in a normal meeting. But this is different. He did not often call others to his nightmare for a variety of reasons - namely sharing his vessel's opinion that it was a bad idea. However, he had a reason to draw them here.
A song is a song, as he said. But the Nightmare King finds it better to meet those who make up the notes that his vessel dances to.
He speaks eventually, a voice that is old and rusted. Fragmented.]
Little Vessel...welcome.
[They can come closer if they wish and he will not stop them. But if it is their own instinct to stay away...he would not be surprised.]
apologizes for the delay in response
A nightmare requires a mind to exist or they simply would belong to their king, after all.
As the path goes along a sound will invade the Vessel's mind. One that is obviously not to do with their thoughts or biology. It is a heartbeat, slow and steady, and grows in volume as they approach. If the sound is disturbing that is wholly up to the Vessel but it feel...familiar, somehow.
(Stand before the Troupe's dark dream.)
At the end of the path reveals the Nightmare Heart in all of its glory, steadily beating away. The temperature of the room is on the side of unbearably hot and it is lit up with flames that had been lit on thousands of staffs that the Grimmkin normally carry, all jammed into the ground where they would normally sit.
The audience is not here, as it is not time for the show. But the Master of the Troupe is.
Wreathed in scarlet flames and standing tall in the center of the arena is the God of Nightmares. His gaze is fixed on the tiny Vessel and the room bends from the heat and his mere presence. It is not on purpose, however, but instinctive. The Nightmare King was the God over this realm and it responded to him.
Perhaps it gave away where his instincts would lie in a normal meeting. But this is different. He did not often call others to his nightmare for a variety of reasons - namely sharing his vessel's opinion that it was a bad idea. However, he had a reason to draw them here.
A song is a song, as he said. But the Nightmare King finds it better to meet those who make up the notes that his vessel dances to.
He speaks eventually, a voice that is old and rusted. Fragmented.]
Little Vessel...welcome.
[They can come closer if they wish and he will not stop them. But if it is their own instinct to stay away...he would not be surprised.]