« Reply #2 on: April 03, 2021, 01:46:26 AM »
"Dark Mother, Flesh Carver, Queen of the Demonweb Pits, Hear me! I, Ulviirala of House Rilyn'ae supplicate myself to your grand majesty and enact your great vision!
Do we now ask that you peer upon us, your unrelentingly devoted and loyal children, for we offer the privilege of appeasing your whims.
Hear us Goddess! Those who have rejected your truth and resist, all who impugn your will, your silken tapestry, must perish.
So now the willing give themselves over to be embraced, to feel the gossamer threads of destiny you weave, to remind us that you are absolute."
The dagger touched my skin, and I screamed.
Bebilith venom burns, but it sets fiends on fire. Six hells of silver-flame did it ever burn. I could feel my blood bubble and boil. The world spun as stars formed in my eyes. I did what anyone in that situation could do...
I screamed again.
I screamed until I choked... and then I simply choked. Sweat, blood, venom and ink covered me. White noise took my senses as supernatural pain brought me to doubt everything.
Then that Orbben's shade whispered. Or rather, I felt its words pour through my head. The sweet honeyed sound of its voice. Curious De'rendalhar... Privileged, intimately entwined into Her silks.
« Last Edit: March 23, 2023, 12:09:50 AM by Favee »
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