Home Creators Posts Import Register Favorites Logout
haven't archived this post yet. have a subscription? use the importer!

Content

You look, and all that meets you is a frail, stalking corpse: hands only just sure enough to hold a pen. You do not know the thought behind these eyes, the weight inside this mind, or the horror within the quill.

And, if you hold so tight to fear and hate, you will see why I am free, but my words are held back, rolled in chain.

—The first shade, He-Whose-Name-was-Lost

Files

Previews only

Comments

Andrew Siler

Yess I needed a cool spell idea for a cultist party my players are gonna smash. Thank you this is great ❤️