Narcelia dreams.
A male drow radiating godhood stands before her. His clothing is simple, and in shades of red and purple with black threaded throughout. He reaches out to touch her cheek tenderly, and she shudders under the weight of his hand. As she turns away from him, she sees the room flooding with blood, the blood of many sacrifices. Torn between the feathery touch on her cheek and her clerical upbringing, a scream is torn from her. "Lolth! This unworthy one begs your notice!" She raises her gaze to see the god's reaction to her cry to another deity, and as she glances at the wall, tens of spiders spill out from a crack in the stone. The spiders pour down and sink into the now ankle-deep blood. The loss of so many of Lolth's children stuns her into silence, and then the first of the small army climbs up the male drow's leg. He looks irritated at first, and brushes the next few off. As they keep advancing, however, he gives up and turns to face Narcelia fully. Wordlessly, he says farewell and promises to return. "I will save you . . ." echoes in the chamber after he is gone. The blood has drained off somehow, but the spiders seem minimized somehow without his presence.