Web of Tal-Qazar

I was goblin, green and small, Mocked by silver, spurned by tall. From Deismaar’s broken sky I came, Bathed in god-blood, crowned in flame. I led my kin through ash and gore, Drove the elves from vale and shore. They named me monster, named me scar— But whispered low… Tal-Qazar. I am Tal-Qazar! Greatest King by fang and scar! Gnolls and goblins, weave and war— The world is tangled in my roar! Hiss my name from near and far— I am the Spider! Tal-Qazar! No other voice shall claim my thread. I was light beneath the dawn, Blade of justice, honor sworn. At Deismaar when gods were slain, I stood unbowed in sacred flame. He came at dusk with poisoned cries, A goblin king with burning eyes. I struck him down—my silver blade Cleft through flesh and darkness made. The foul thing fell. I cleansed the field. So I believed… my fate was sealed. For in his blood there stirred a seed— A whisper born of spite and greed. It climbed my veins like creeping thread, Wove its hunger through my head. My limbs grew strange, my thoughts grew tar— And in the dark… I heard: “Tal-Qazar.” NO! I am Tal-Qazar! Elf-born puppet, broken star! You wore my web, you breathed my scar— You are nothing! I am war! Gnoll and goblin know who you are— A vessel for the Spider, Tal-Qazar! You slew me… and became me. Before the crown and before the curse, There was hunger—nothing worse. Not for gold and not for throne— But fear of being small, alone. Goblin, elf—it matters not. Power is taken, never bought. At Deismaar when divinity bled, Something ancient was unfed. It needed will. It needed scar. It found a name: Tal-Qazar. You call it curse. You call it fate. It is the self that conquers hate. Every voice you try to bar Feeds the web of Tal-Qazar. Greatest King by fang and scar! Goblin born and elf defiled— Human doubt exiled and exiled! Three frail throats beneath one star— I am the Spider! Tal-Qazar! Spin the doubt and choke the liar— I am hunger! I am fire! Web of god-blood, mind ajar— All roads lead to Tal-Qazar!