Gwindolyn Spiritor
The thing that held her bile down in her stomach as she looked into his eyes with a lovesick look of adoration on her face had been her vision of him. Lloth sent her a vision of this elf. He was important: Lloth decreed it. And what she did, Gwindolyn did for her Goddess, the Beautiful, powerful and fickle Spider Queen of Chaos, Lloth.
To fall into disfavor with this Goddess was to elect to be the main sacrifice at the next offering at the temple, or else to fall prey to a dagger in the shadows. Neither were pleasant thoughts. To run from this task placed into her hands would be a life of looking back, never trusting the darkness she loved so much. She could never allow her beloved spider to live near her either, and where could she live where no spiders resided? It was futile: her heart and her life belonged to the Cruel Manipulator. It was the only love she fostered. The chaos kept her wits sharp; the never knowing who to trust kept her abilty to play a part up to perfection.
She did it well. This elf was falling for it with all he was. The way he surrendered to her every invitation, her slightest nudges --even her hints were heeded-- made him hers.
She could see him with his soul tainted and growing darker, colder, crueler by the day. He would be a pink skinned version of them. He would play his part, too, just as perfectly as she would herself. He would go back to his home and sow the seeds of Lloth until there was an undeniable darkness in his bright and shiny homelands. He would be the poison she ingests into his race. She would seduce him completely. She would own his soul as surely as if she put a collar and leash on his neck. Her eyes flicker but a moment to his neck. She could even see the collar. It would be obsidian sculpted into webbing. Under the throat would be, of course, the black widow. In the webbing would be her house insignia, her personal markings. She could almost taste the chaotic energy that would coarse through it, the taste it would leave on him. She grew excited with such visions, excited enough that she didn't have to fake her passion to this elf, even through he turned her stomach with his mere presence. Her house tainted with elf: the thought was painful, but if the vision becomes fulfilled, she would receive power and reward enough from Lloth to make up for this slight in life.
She continued on with her plans, seducing the elf with every sensual fiber of her exceptionally beautiful body.
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To fall into disfavor with this Goddess was to elect to be the main sacrifice at the next offering at the temple, or else to fall prey to a dagger in the shadows. Neither were pleasant thoughts. To run from this task placed into her hands would be a life of looking back, never trusting the darkness she loved so much. She could never allow her beloved spider to live near her either, and where could she live where no spiders resided? It was futile: her heart and her life belonged to the Cruel Manipulator. It was the only love she fostered. The chaos kept her wits sharp; the never knowing who to trust kept her abilty to play a part up to perfection.
She did it well. This elf was falling for it with all he was. The way he surrendered to her every invitation, her slightest nudges --even her hints were heeded-- made him hers.
She could see him with his soul tainted and growing darker, colder, crueler by the day. He would be a pink skinned version of them. He would play his part, too, just as perfectly as she would herself. He would go back to his home and sow the seeds of Lloth until there was an undeniable darkness in his bright and shiny homelands. He would be the poison she ingests into his race. She would seduce him completely. She would own his soul as surely as if she put a collar and leash on his neck. Her eyes flicker but a moment to his neck. She could even see the collar. It would be obsidian sculpted into webbing. Under the throat would be, of course, the black widow. In the webbing would be her house insignia, her personal markings. She could almost taste the chaotic energy that would coarse through it, the taste it would leave on him. She grew excited with such visions, excited enough that she didn't have to fake her passion to this elf, even through he turned her stomach with his mere presence. Her house tainted with elf: the thought was painful, but if the vision becomes fulfilled, she would receive power and reward enough from Lloth to make up for this slight in life.
She continued on with her plans, seducing the elf with every sensual fiber of her exceptionally beautiful body.
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