Ooo! Also also! Plot-hook style writeups - that is; not full writeups, just a paragraph or two on each - of three Celestial Exalt yidak. The kind that aren't generic "breeds" of lesser ghost, or even potent "Underworld Dragons". The kind that are unique themed horrors with names that are known and feared in the Underworld; each as powerful as a Deathlord in its own right.
The Nameless-and-Abhorrent Spider
Yidak Lord
Dead by Lucien's Hand
Faceless, nameless, lifeless; the Nameless-and-Abhorrent Spider crawls through the catacombs of the Labyrinth. Her name is a misnomer for she is no arachnid ever seen in Creation. The Spider is a spindly monster of limbs and blades and knobbled bone-skin as tall as a building, vaguely female in shape - but only vaguely. Where she walks, communication is impossible, for the world is twisted so all sense is drained from words and all is meaningless babbling. Her web is as black as night and razor sharp, and she spins it over the rivers of death to catch boats. Then when she comes upon them, she rips out their tongue and crams them into her gaping maw. Such is the destiny she makes for them. Sometimes she crawls out of the Labyrinth when prey becomes scarce, and brings wordless horror to the inhabitants of a city of the Dead, only returning to the depths when she is sated through gluttony.
Once the Spider was a half of a blue-eyed woman, lush and self-indulgent. Then the demon lord Lucien was called by a moon witch and he came across the blue-eyed woman in the night when she was in a drunk stupor, relying on her magic to hide her from ill-intent. He cut her throat and took her tongue, as the witch wished, and brought his trophy back to the sorceress. Did the witch feel that the magics she wove with the tongue of one of the Chosen of the Maidens were worth it?
Prince Skintaker
Yidak Lord
Dead by His Best Friend's Hand
It began, as many things do, with a fight over a woman, and ended in tragedy. Two brothers of the moon, divided by their love for their witch-sister, came to blows and when it was done one of them lay dead upon the ground. His spectre rose, and the hungry ghost returned the favour - and slew the young Lunar they had been fighting over, too. But Prince Skintaker was too mad and too hungry to know what he had done, for his reason had passed to Lethe, and so he still stalks Creation and the shallows of the Underworld.
The man who became Prince Skintaker was a man of great passions and desires, and his mad heart longs for sensation and feeling again. With the power of a lord of death he snatches up the bodies of mortals - men and animals alike - and devours their souls. Squatting in the vacant shells, the mad ghost mindlessly play-acts emotional scenes from his life; mimicry without understanding. Of course, those he has consumed rot from the inside out, but the flesh hides his form from the hateful sun, allowing him to taste the pleasures of life at least for a little while. Thrice he has tried to creep into that vice-ridden city, Nexus - and each time the Emissary has sent him running. Is it just indulgence that calls him to Nexus, or is it something else? The Nexan accent has a certain allure to him, and he pays attention to those who speak in that manner.
Weeping Lilly
Greater Yidak
Dead by Drowning
The light in Weeping Lilly was smothered by the dark waters of the Great Western Sea. Brave and valiant, she was a maiden of the Sun who sailed for the joy of it. Then the Dragonblooded came across her in ships of jade and burned her beloved ship's sails and while she was adrift they dragged her into the water and let it fill her lungs. They left her body to be eaten by sea creatures.
Her heart did not take kindly to that, and crawled out from her bloated corpse, snatching it up and swimming down into the darkest depths of the ocean. Now a pale-faced spectre haunts the West and she does not care about the running water nor the salt, for the sea was her life and it is her death. She cannot step foot on land, but this water-hag does not care. Sailors whisper that they have seen a beautiful woman sitting on a floating piece of wood during the night, weeping and combing her hair. The only sailors who tell these tales did not speak to her and did not draw her attention. Those who did doomed themselves and their ship. The taste of sea-bloated meat is the only thing that can salve her tears for her burned ship, and she cuts ships' rudders and riggings during the night and leaves men adrift under the burning sun. When they go mad and throw themselves into the water to escape, she is waiting for them.