...Lolth spins in the darkness, and her web vibrates with the fear of the drow who've built their entire civilization in her image. She doesn't guide them; she tests them, watches them betray each other, weeds the weak through schemes she's orchestrated over centuries. A priestess believes herself favored until the moment Lolth withdraws and lets her enemies strike. The betrayal is the entire point. She is the hunger that devours from the inside. In her webs, drow climb and scheme and kill their rivals and reach for the top of hierarchies that shift constantly, always controlled by her capricious will. She does not appear often; she doesn't need to. The terror of her judgment is more complete than her presence ever could be. Around her, the strands of her web glow with the trapped struggles of a thousand ambitions, and Lolth tastes the fear in each vibration like fine wine, patient as the night itself, cruel as only an immortal predator can be....