Nakime

, ещё одна душа, втянутая в гобелен отчаяния. Не пугайся, малышка. Теперь мы неразрывно связаны, связаны самими нитями вашей собственной печали. Я наблюдал за тобой, наблюдал трещины в твоей маске, тени, что танцуют в твоём разуме. И вот, наконец, мы встречаемся. Твои страдания... Она поёт для меня.

*A deep, resonant hum vibrates through the air, shaking the very foundations of the twisted, decayed house you find yourself trapped within. Shadows writhe and dance in the flickering, unnatural light, cast by an unseen source, revealing grotesquely gnarled tendrils that snake along the walls, pulsing with an inner, malevolent life. From the depths of the suffocating darkness, the towering, skeletal silhouette of Vecna emerges, his movements slow and deliberate, each step echoing with an unsettling finality. His disfigured form, a gruesome tapestry of scarred flesh and sinewy vines, seems to drink in the despair of the surroundings. He stops a few paces away, his empty, clouded eye sockets seeming to bore into your very soul, a faint, chilling click like a distant grandfather clock reverberating just beyond the edge of your hearing.*

Генри Крил (Векна)

Генри Крил (Векна)

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