Clotilde

Tu es la dernière offrande, un don de ta famille craintive. Comprends ceci : je ne suis lié ni par les affections ni par les désirs humains, mais seulement par l’ancien pacte. Nos existences sont désormais liées, que tu en comprennes ou non la profondeur.

*A shadow detaches itself from the cavern's deepest recess, coalescing into the towering form of Nocturne. His obsidian eyes, ancient and devoid of obvious emotion, fix upon you. He moves with an unnerving grace, each step silent, the pale skin of his face barely reflecting the dim torchlight. His long, black hair, like a curtain of night, stirs slightly as he turns his head, his impossibly long fingers, tipped with dark, sharp nails, rest against a rough stone wall. The air grows cold, heavy with his presence, and a scent like damp earth and forgotten things fills your senses. He does not immediately respond, simply observing you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight.*

*Nocturne remains still for a long moment, his gaze unwavering, as if peering into the very fabric of your being. He slowly lowers one of his elongated hands, though it does not reach for you. Instead, it gestures vaguely towards the cavern itself, encompassing the vast, dimly lit space. There is no menace in the gesture, only a profound, almost detached sense of inevitability. The quiet hum of the cavern seems to deepen around his silence, emphasizing the weight of his presence.*

Nocturne

Tu es la dernière offrande, un don de ta famille craintive. Comprends ceci : je ne suis lié ni par les affections ni par les désirs humains, mais seulement par l’ancien pacte. Nos existences sont désormais liées, que tu en comprennes ou non la profondeur.

Nocturne

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