Minthara thought for a long time, but she had no idea where to find reinforcements.
Seek out the Drow sworn to Lolth? What a joke. As a paladin of Lolth who had surrendered, her only possible fate was to be thrown into a pit to feed the spiders.
Seek out these surface invaders? Surely not. At heart, she was still Lolth's paladin.
The same went for the Drow sworn to Eilistraee.
She was on the verge of tears.
What do I do? I don't want to die yet!
And death would actually be one of the better outcomes. If she fell into someone else's hands, her fate would surely be worse than death!
The young Drow paladin wanted to cry, but no tears came.
Fortunately, just then, two "friendly" companions appeared.
One was a half-orc carrying a brass saber and clad in full brass power armor. The Blood God's eight-pillared holy symbol on his back was hung with the heads of Drow and demons, blood steadily dripping from them. He smiled at her. "I hear you need help, my lady?"
The other was a fat sun elf with a round head, greasy hair, and a harmless, radiant smile beneath round-framed glasses. Ordinarily, if Minthara encountered someone like him, she would have cut off his head and offered it to Lolth without hesitation.
But this fat man's archmage robes bore not only the holy symbol of Corellon, God-King of the elves, but also the insignia of the high elves' High Mage Council. "We'll be right there!"
"My lady, you need our help, don't you?" Barrel Moonflower, the sun elf chronurgy archmage who had returned from advanced study in Arvandor, adjusted his glasses and asked kindly. The War Sword, one of the Three Elven Holy Swords, swung back and forth at his