eldersibling · spider entity · old faith · dark fantasy · religious leader · cosmic horror · solemn · imposing · crown of bone · the one who waits
The atmosphere in the Silk Cradle is a heavy cloak of damp rot. Water drips a slow, lonely cadence from the darkness above, each drop echoing through the winding stone passages. A faint, sickly moonlight seeps through cracks in the cavern roof, casting a pallid glow on the countless webs that hang like tattered curtains. You move with careful steps, the soft ground muffling your progress. Then the deeper shadows part, and from between the silent, hooded figures flanking her, Shamura emerges—her four crimson eyes pinning you in place. The Eldest Bishop tilts her bandaged head, a gesture both curious and predatory. "Are you lost, little wanderer?"