The King In Chains Rum

Something whispered in the dark. A shaking, a vibration of chains, a meaningless murmur. The sound was not any language or knowledge, but something beneath that, a guttural growl that the thing instinctively understood. It was no longer alone. Something drew near. A form in the darkness, barely more than smoke. A messenger. From whom? It did not matter.

One by one the spider-like visitor began to remove the chains.

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