Avery's meal was interrupted by the appearance of the drow. A drow!  I real, live drow!  He'd read about them he remembered (but how he remembered was lost to him) and he'd often seen elves and a few of the Underdark's dwarven minions, but a drow?  This was a first!  This would be worth writing home about, if only he remembered where 'home' was.<br/><br/>As the lithe and confidently powerful woman moved across the room he knew that his was not the only pair of eyes riveted on her.  Even the great Nabriel was forgotten. The rabbits bounced along on her shapely hip and made Avery's young head bounce along with them, wondering how recently their little hearts had beat in their chest.<br/><br/>When the drow woman - drowdess? - came to their table the young man crossed his legs at the knees, his manhood feeling suddenly very vulnerable, as if she might rip out his tenders and string him up on her belt as well.  Nervously the dropped his gaze and took a bite of his stew as the women talked.  The prospect of being on the same side of a blade as this drow made him glad that he wasn't on the opposite, but her closeness and the cruel reputation her people had made him suddenly aware of his 'man-ness' around her.<br/><br/>Didn't drow turn their men into eunuchs?  He grew very interested in his stew and waited to see what the outcome would be.