The Drow are an unpredictable enemy. They did not try to sneak-in as before; this time it was a full blown frontal assault. My new comrades and I took the left flank closest to the castle. And then they came. It is hard to know who is the bigger beast, Cadrel or his horse. With the aid of an unknown knight they held the right side of our ranks even downing one of the Drow alone.
I on the other hand am embarrassed to say that I did not do our family proud during my first real combat. All the practice, all the fancy footwork, everything was lost or forgotten in the heat of combat. This spell-blade duality was so confusing. Cast-swing or swing cast, I could not get it right then in the midst of my confusing there it was, standing before me, a Drow. “That the night when the lights went out in Georgia.” One-two and I was lying unconscious in battle. I awoke badly wounded laying between (at their feet) of several enemies, what a poor elven girl gonna do, crawl and pray. Thrace was a gift from above. Not only did she heal me but she kept the party alive in general through her healing hands. I never could have crawls away had it not been for the cool blade of . Actually he is far handsomer when he is standing over you saving your bacon than at eye level.
No, I was not completely useless in battle, just disappointing. I managed to down two of the grimlocks and bring the “beasties-calling-staff” to a location where Thoradron could disarm it. We survived, none of our little band died. There are stories of a Drow Princess/Queen (witch) who just “B”-slapped Seriah (our leader). I could see nothing through the darkness but Thrace has her hands full putting Seriah back together. As usual, after the battle I try to rally the troops. I suppose I have a cohort of follows but I suspect they are more enamored with my sword dancing than my sword play.