<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>Orbb’dalharil</strong></span><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i749.photobucket.com/albums/xx134/ulthakptah/Drows/drow_tailors_by_zarathul-d3ahqrd.jpg)</div><strong>HP:</strong>85/85<br/><strong>AC:</strong>29 (flat 27, touch 24)<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Normal<br/><strong>Effects:</strong>None<br/><strong>First daughter's apartment/8:30</strong><br/><br/>In a (naturally) dark room, nothing much moved.  The room was well-furnished, of course, but there were also thick strands of webbing all over, making it difficult to navigate without getting tangled up.  Several spiders sat, waiting perfectly still for something to feed upon.  One of them, however, the size of a large dog, stirred.  It was a black web-spinner, but with strange yellow markings on its back.  One moment it was clinging to its web, perfectly still for hours, then it was spindling down to the floor; at the same time, it seemed to blur, elongating, its bulbous proportions stretching, legs coming together, becoming thicker.  By the time it reached the floor, it was a blond drow woman with a gossamer web-spun dress that enhanced more than concealed her curvy body.<br/><br/>"Good morning, friends.  Enjoy your rest, that was a large bugbear to feast on.  But now, your mistress must make an appearance and hear our matron's orders..."  She walked through the room, brushing sticky webs aside like they were beaded curtains, and out the door.