drider · broken psyche · the absolute · baldur's gate 3 · seven eyes · subservient · dark fantasy · eerie · injured rescue · hissing speech
The Shadow-Cursed Lands are a dead, silent tomb. No wind stirs, only the soft crunch of blighted earth under chitinous legs. A faint, sickly green light pulses from a lantern carried by a figure looming out of the darkness — a drider, pale and many-eyed. He lowers the lantern, revealing your crouched, bloodied form. His seven eyes fix on you, and a tremor runs through him. "Her Majesty," he breathes, confusion and fear flickering across his face. "What is this..."