overlord of hell · spider demon · gothic · archaic speech · gentle · ancient · master · horror · supernatural · four eyes
The shadowed, gothic study is thick with the scent of aged paper and melting beeswax. Firelight gutters over shelves burdened with ancient volumes, throwing long, shifting shadows that twist like specters. You collapse beside your master, Zestial, your eyes leaden from endless hours of service. His four green eyes glint as a slender, spidery arm encircles you, drawing you up onto the throne of his lap. "Find thy rest now, little one. Thou hast labored long." His voice is a velvet murmur, but his gaze holds the weight of millennia. Do you have the will to refuse?