What coldness must a creature possess to cut a life out of the very rocks that serve as the foundation to the world? How soulless must a creature be to prefer the cracks of the world to the living, breathing surface? Cold and soulless describe the Drow elves in all there intricate cruelty. Worshipping a Spider Queen who rules her chosen people with a ruthless lash the Drow live among architecture that celebrates the image of their arachnid queen. The designs are woven like blackened webs where blackened spiders wait for prey.