Gwindolyn Spiritor
Gwindolyn watched. Every move he made was watched. He relieved his bladder, it was known. He read a hidden page, it was seen. For as few as he saw, many saw him. The spiders relayed much information. The drow filled in the rest. This was her home and there was no way she would have such a guest in it without a guard of sorts. So she knew he grew more ready. She knew he grew more cocky. She laughed at the way he puffed about his room when he thought he was alone.
She knew he grew more impatient with her from the way he presses her when she comes. He had thoughts. He had ideas. She needed to foster them a bit longer, a bit deeper. He needed more than the right attitude, the right ability with sword. He needed to learn his place. but he wasn't ready to be taught his place. She could see the fragile chaos growing in him and knew that pushing it would be like pushing a jaluk to court or tossing a mere child to the orcs. It would mean his death. She rarely cared about the death of another, let alone a mere male. However, Lloth has decreed this. Lloth would see her torn apart in the most excruciating ways should she not comply. Worst, her house would fall and her name forgotten.
She rolled her eyes at the painful thought. She looked around and tried to imagine a pink skin in her court and almost voided her stomach. She steadied her will. She gathered her spiders, and she went to the temple to pray. She demanded of her goddess her servitude be rewarded greatly that favor and power be bestowed upon her and her house according to this great sacrifice. She sang the great song of the spiders in praise and adoration of the Chaos Queen. She opened her hand once more, let the blood flow onto the altar to fill the ceremonies. She did pause one moment to remember her first turn in prayers so many years ago. She gave a wry grin at the memory two centuries old.
She rose from her daily worship and called a male to her. He came promptly as if he had been at her side always. "Prepare a surface run. We need a sacrifice." With that she leaves the male before he could even reply. After a bath, it is time to see him, Nimros.
She knew he grew more impatient with her from the way he presses her when she comes. He had thoughts. He had ideas. She needed to foster them a bit longer, a bit deeper. He needed more than the right attitude, the right ability with sword. He needed to learn his place. but he wasn't ready to be taught his place. She could see the fragile chaos growing in him and knew that pushing it would be like pushing a jaluk to court or tossing a mere child to the orcs. It would mean his death. She rarely cared about the death of another, let alone a mere male. However, Lloth has decreed this. Lloth would see her torn apart in the most excruciating ways should she not comply. Worst, her house would fall and her name forgotten.
She rolled her eyes at the painful thought. She looked around and tried to imagine a pink skin in her court and almost voided her stomach. She steadied her will. She gathered her spiders, and she went to the temple to pray. She demanded of her goddess her servitude be rewarded greatly that favor and power be bestowed upon her and her house according to this great sacrifice. She sang the great song of the spiders in praise and adoration of the Chaos Queen. She opened her hand once more, let the blood flow onto the altar to fill the ceremonies. She did pause one moment to remember her first turn in prayers so many years ago. She gave a wry grin at the memory two centuries old.
She rose from her daily worship and called a male to her. He came promptly as if he had been at her side always. "Prepare a surface run. We need a sacrifice." With that she leaves the male before he could even reply. After a bath, it is time to see him, Nimros.