I beheld a figure clad in old moth-eaten furs, who’s skin contained only a hint of blue and seemed to be paper thin. His eyes stared vacantly, and his hand trembled but for some reason I was trembling as well. Everywhere in the air there was a sense of darkness, chaotic hunger. I saw that his shadow was alive with the essence of the Logrus, not content to merely lie on the floor. Then he looked at me and I cringed away.

Senile dotard, consumed by the Logrus? Or great genius of Chaos, communing with the Serpent’s own power the way most of us breathe? I no longer wish to find out.
Adrigal the Wanderer: The Tomb that is Rhial

Highlord Zemetel is the ostensible ruler of the house, but it has been several centuries since he did anything but shuffle about in the halls, drawing snide remarks from his descendants and terror from the servants. Much of the Highlord’s memory seems to be gone, or at least locked away from him. They say he has succumbed permenantly to the Logrus madness, or perhaps that his mind is gone and so now it is his personal Logrus that rules him, rather than the other way around.

Whatever the case, it’s clear he has a great deal of power still. There’s no real reason to attack him, he makes no move to stop others from conducting the House’s business, and there’s always that worry that it might go badly. Sometimes he will do something, or say something that makes him seem lucid, and that always makes everyone very nervous.