[Galadria]

Here you go, Calethis:

They all formed around Galadria, now, with her back to the wall. Odo and Chorania were at the front, and Noemi and Cythera were on either side of her, Sefa directly before her, her bow at the ready. Attalus cut the chain with one swing of Corhydras and took his place at Odo's side.
The air exploded with magiclly-arriving drow. They were, as predicted, young except for a mage that was urging them on in Drow. Chorania understood him to say, "Onward, drow warriors. Slay me these renegades for Lolth." He stopped in the middle of his diatribe, for, instead of the poorly-led Outsiders he expected, there were well-equipped and armed opponents. And mages among them, he realised too late, when Noemi and Cythera stripped him of his magic protections. Galadria saw this and launched a paralysis spell. He froze in mid-spell.
He could still see, however, and his mind was clear. He saw, to his amazment, a, to him, huge drow female, wearing no House badge. He felt a twinge of excitement. An Outsider, indeed. Let him get his claws on her, and Lolth would be pleased indeed. If only this cursed spell would wear off. He hoped his warriors would leave at least that one alive, for a short period. His hopes faded. His warriors died on Corhydras, Odo's mace Starshine, and Chorania's hammer. The spell held. He realised frantically that he was in the grips of no ordinary paralysis spell, which would have worn off by now. This one was the work of a master. The female drow? No, she was happily slaying his youngsters with single strokes of her great hammer. Ah, that one. He saw the surfacer in black standing with arms folded while the girls on either side of her were freezing, frying, and electrocuting the young drow of his party. She was looking directly into his eyes, he realized to his horror. She was maintaining the spell by direct mental command. She was, at the least, an Ipsissimus, a white magician who had gained conversance with her tutelary diety.
As Attalus cut the last drow warrior in half, the five women, the drow and the rest, surrounded him. Galadria still kept him in his spell until the ring was complete, with herself and Chorania before him. She placed an amulet around the mage's neck, then spoke a single word. "Amech." Suddenly, the spell was lifted. He could move! He started to cast a spell, but found he could not. The amulet! An anti-magic device! He felt the sting of two points in his back.
The big female drow spoke then. "Do not move, male," she said in Drow, with an amused tone. "If you do, you will be spitted with the biggest sword that I have ever seen, and a amusingly poisoned knife." He looked over his shoulder and saw the biggest human that he had ever seen with the huge sword poised against his right kidney. A young girl, almost his size, held a glowing knife over the other. The drow child that he had used to set the trap appeared in front of her. She regarded him accusingly. "Sorsha," said Chorania, "is that the male that did this to you?"
The waif glared at him . "Yes, Lady Chorania, it is. Bastard." She walked over to the mage and kicked him in the scrotum. It hurt like the hells, but he was a drow, and fought it off.
"Are you then," he gritted, "Chorania LeMeaux?" At her proud nod, he groaned. The greatest prize of all, save perhaps Drizzt Do'Urden. He looked at her hungrily. She was indeed a magnificent creature. Her glorious mouth, those sultry eyes, the heave of that magnificent bosom. He pictured her in his bed, then spreadeagled on the altar of Lolth.
His reverie was interrupted, however. She, recognizing the lusts in his eyes, strode over to him and slapped him hard enough to knock him down, then kicked him, repeatedly, in the ribs, while abusing him in Drow. Finishing, she asked. Galadria, "May I kill him, abbil?"
"Not just yet, Cho," Galadria ordered, grimly. "Ask him who he is and why he was here."
"Who are you, male?" she shouted, punctuating each question with a kick. "I know that you are of House D'Ospann by your badge. Why were you here, throwing half-grown boys against my Mistress, eh? Who were you hunting?"
When she relented, he got out, between gasps of air: "I am Amanta D'Ospann, damn you. We were searching for traitors like you. Who is your Mistress, anyhow? I've never even heard of that spell."
Chorania looked at the dark mage. "He wants to know who you are, abbil. Shall I tell him?" At her nod, she addressed the drow mage again. "Bow down, male. You are in the presence of the very Lady Galadria, she who destroyed the entire city of B'ren Naylor when it turned against her. Lolth's foremost foe, greatest of the drow-banes, and my rescuer. She who chose mortality over godhood. Are you afraid? Do you tremble? You should. You are very close to death."
The drow mage looked up from the bowing position that she had forced him into. He saw only the tall, slender woman in black robes that had enchanted him. He knew of the surfacer known as Galadria, but had always pictured her as something as terrible as Lolth herself, but she appeared very ordinary. Nothing like the beauty of Chorania or the women on either side of her. "That is Galadria? We never heard what she looked like. No one survived the fall of B'ren Naylor. Lolth would indeed have been pleased if I had brought you two in, but I had no chance. Chorania," he recoiled as she kicked him in the face, but went on: "Why have you come back, when you were safe on the surface, hmmm?" His breathing eased, though he could tell that he had broken ribs. "Are you looking for your brother, who went missing after killing the leader of his patrol, just because M'Burto had just siezed the great trophy of a surface elf female's head? That was like him, always a weakling, as they said you were, though I see that the reports of your weakness should have been limited to your heart."