Right?

"Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! It's all wrong!" Hilda squealed to her attendant as she held up her newest set of formal armor. "This won't impress the Drow Queen at all!"

Hilda was currently in her special diplomatic caravan, en route to the Underdark city of L'Ohnga Hassnahme. As this was an unprecedented mission to build relations with the notoriously private Drow Kingdom, Queen Belinda had spared no expense when outfitting her chosen dignitary with everything she'd need. Now, much of the gold spent on the mission had gone towards beautifying the caravan to Lady Hilda's standards, leading to the gaudy, jewel-encrusted wagon rumbling its way underground. The queen had also spent an inordinate amount of money on wizard spells to ensure the caravan didn't encounter any monsters or bad luck on the way down. Someone might have thought to tell her that the drow already had means of repelling monsters from their underground roads, or that wizards' usual methods of casting spells did not entail throwing sand and salt on the wagon and calling it a day. But anyone who could have told her that were busy counting the gold coins she'd tossed their way, so it unfortunately slipped their minds.

Hilda, for her part, wanted very much to impress the drow queen N'a'shezbaernon S'Anhtuh (Pooky to her friends), but had found that her retinue wasn't quite up to the task. She'd had to leave Sally back at the keep (something about fumigating the place for giant burrowing locusts) and was stuck with several attendants who weren't nearly as good at handling her needs. For instance, the young half elf responsible for packing her wardrobe had only packed her second best set of armor instead of her best.

"It's entirely unprofessional for a dignitary to show up in anything less than the finest fashion money can buy!" Hilda whined to her cowering attendant. "The queen will never take me seriously if I come in wearing this!"

It was more than her voice that had the half elf at a loss for words. Hilda had been in the middle of changing when she noticed the glaring oversight that was her choice in armor, so when she'd stormed out of her room into the servants' quarters, she did so without a scrap of clothing on. Her flabby boobs and chubby tummy shook this way and that as she yelled, oblivious to her situation.

"Now, now, my lady. I'm sure it will be just fine." The lead attendant spoke up, stepping in front of the younger man. "Your armory has some of the best works in the kingdom, after all. Anything you wear will be perfectly suitable for the drow matriarch."

"Surely you jest my good man."

"I assure you, madam, I know exactly how the drow think," the servant lied. In truth, very few of Queen Belinda's servants knew much about the drow. This man had merely picked up a few words of undercommon from a trashy adventure novel he'd read some years back, but that was probably good enough to pick up the language, surely. "Trust me when I tell you that armor will wow everyone you'll meet down here. Why, they hardly know about modern blacksmithing techniques at all!"

Hilda pouted and stomped her foot. "I'll have to make do, I suppose. But this will not go unaddressed when we make it back to the surface, understood?" She turned back to her room, mooning the staff and showing herself to be very much un(ad)dressed before slamming the door behind her.

The attendants all sighed, hoping in vain that the rest of the trip would be easier on them.