Rays of light from the morning sun shone through the window, instantly brighting a small room inside the Copper Coronet. Only a few moments later, the single occupant of the room groaned in displeasure and shielded her eyes by jamming her head under her pillow.

"Somebody turn off the damn lights..." the elven female muttered, but as soon as she spoke the words, the sound of her own voice lanced stabs of immense pain through her skull, which was followed by yet another anguished groan. 'Oh, gods... What have I been drinking last night? Paint-thinner?'

Slowly opening her eyes, she noticed she was in her room at the Copper Coronet... 'Well, at least there's nobody sleeping next to me...' she thought. Xan had insisted nothing had happened at the time, but somehow he seemed less gloomy than was normal for him for a few days after that. She slowly sat up in bed and promply flopped back on her pillow as the sharp agonizing pain returned with full force. 'After all those drinks in the past, you'd think I'd be used to it by now...' She thought wryly. At the second attempt, she rose out of bed succesfully and sat on the edge, facing the floor as she rubbed her painful head with both her hands... 'What the bloody hell had happened last evening anyway?'

She vaguely remembered a fight with three young men who had called her a "dolly-girl" and she had had a lot of drinks in her already then... After that, she remembered walking back to her table being really annoyed. There was another man that spoke to her then... She remembered him calling her "Fair lady..." just before she treated him to a fist in the face. She shook her head : she always had a low breaking-point when she was drunk and that Helmite had driven her over the edge. Then again. she also had a low breaking-point when she was sober. The rest of the evening was obscured by a terrible haze, but she was sure it was she start of a gigantic brawl... How she had ended up in her room, she did not know.

Getting up from her bed, she walked towards a small mirror in the back of the room and gazed upon herself... Girl... You're a wreck... she throught to herself. Looking into the mirror she saw an long dark-haired elf with high cheekbones and piercing dark eyes staring back at her. Her grey-silver moon-elven skin seemed even greyer than it usually was. Most noticable, however, were the two tattoos under her eyes. Three jet-black tear-like streams ran from below her eyes to halfway over her cheeks, and adorned her face. 'Tattoo's, that's a point!' She thought as she removed her undershift to inspect her slightly muscular frame. She was tall for an elf, and thus had much room for tattoos, room she intended to fill up. Right now, she checked to see if she had obtained any new ones... There were five tattoos over her body at the moment. She remembered going asleep really drunk at the Nashkell Inn after celebrating the victory over Mulahey and had woken up with a large tattooed dragon on her lower back. It was a blue dragon, wings spead and its long tail running down her upper leg... Finding the tattoo incredibly beautiful she had decided to have more applied. The two under her eyes and the elven symbol of longevity, tattooed just above her navel, to cover up a rather nasty magical scar she'd obtained from her battle with Sarevok, she had done while sober. Then there was a ornate webbing running from her upper right shoulder across her shoulder-blade and a serpent, immortalized in a striking-pose, wrapped around her left knee. That last one she had discovered when awaking in the Three Kegs Inns at Baldur's Gate... But right now, there didn't seem to be any new ones.

Pity...

Taking another look in the mirror, she sighed and cursed herself... Why had she had so much to drink last night? To get rid of the memories of her months of torture? To forget about the death of her good friend Dynaheir? To repress the thoughts of Imoen's theft?

'Imoen...' She thought back how her sister had always scolded her after drink-fests like last nights. According to Imoen, she was irresponsible, childish, petty, borderline insane, hot-tempered... Anger soared through the elven female, because Imoen had also called her friendly, loving, humorous, open-minded and a hero... but she merely felt like a failure.

'I am not a hero...' she thought with a hint of pain. Real heroes would have ripped this sodding city apart right now... Would have cut their way through those cowled freaks... Would have found and rescued Imoen by now! Real heroes would not sit in a bar getting drunk and starting petty fights!'

She took one last look in the mirror. You're a loser, Laska... she thought wryly and smashed her fist into her own visage. As pieces of shattered glass landed on the floor of the room, Laska inspected her now bloodied knuckles... "And I am NOT hot-tempered!" she shouted at the broken mirror.

After a deep sigh, she walked to the chair where her clothes, chain-mail and swords were waiting for her. After sliding into her pants and wrapping her vest over her chest, she wrapped a rag around her bleeding hand and sped out her room and slammed the door shut with great force.

"Ah! Be still my heart! Most beauteous creature! A woman who must have been shaped by the very gods themselves!" Salavas cried as he saw a goddess of a woman decending from the stairs.

Next thing the frisky elf knew, he was flying through the air and rolled over the floor as he landed.

"Not tonight, honey," Laska muttered with a smile, "I have a headache."

"Are you starting again, miss?" a portly man asked her from behind with a hint of nervousness. "We've barely cleaned up from last night!"

Laska turned around, showing sheepishness in her expression. "Where there... many damages?" she asked.

"Well, this happens at least once a week in here, so we usually buy cheap furniture..." Bernard said. "So a hundred gold should cover it... And most people don't even remember what happened. I haven't seen that helmite again, however. I think you broke his nose."

Laska reached for her money pouch and handed him his price with an apologetic half-smile.

"Thank you, miss." Bernard smiles, unaccustomed to the patrons actually paying for the damages they had done. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"Hair-of-the-dog?" Laska asked hopefully while rubbing her head.

"Not with the stuff you've been drinking..." Bernard snorted. "You'll end up as dead as a Troll in a Paladin's bedchambers. But I have something else." Bernard walked to the counter and pick-up a glass of murky liquid... From the amount of glasses, it seemed she wasn't the only one to get really drunk last night...

"Old family recipe! Down the hatch in one go!" Bernard said cheerfully as he offered her the glass.

Laska complied and let the murky liquid slide down her esophagus. As soon the liquid hit her stomach, she wretched and was barely able to keep herself from hurling it all over the floor.

"This... this is VILE!" Laska cried. "What IS it?!"

"Six raw eggs." Bernard smiled. "Should take care of your headache, as well as your haze."

Upon seeing Laska's blank stare, Bernard smiled and told her he would bring her some roasted bread on the house. Laska sat down at the nearest table and leaned back into the chair...

Moments later, the only real friend in the world she had right now, descended from the stairs. 'Correction...' she smiled to herself. 'Make that two real friends...'

"A good morning to you, from Minsc and Boo!" the large ranger shouted enthusiastically and put the small hamster on the table. Laska smiled, and fed the happy hamster some of her bread.

"Good morning, Minsc." Laska replied surly. "Ready for another day of useless wandering about?"

"Boo notices friend Laska is not is a good mood." Indeed, Laska noticed Boo was looking at her in a funny way, whiskers twitching. "Every day is a good day to wipe the floor with the dusty buttocks of evil!"

"Oh, please..." Laska groaned. "Kill one evil bloke and there are five others waiting to take his place. It never ends and it's always the same. People in danger, friends killed and sisters... taken away."

"But Laska..." Minsc continued. "It is what we do! Evil must be meet the fury of sword and hamster!"

"Ah... It's like Xan used to say..." Laska snarled. "What was it...? 'Life is just a never-ending string of terrible humiliating defeats'. Sometimes it's just better to quit while you're ahead. We'll never see Imoen again."

Minsc said nothing and just stared at her. Then without saying a word, he got up from his chair and circled around the table, leaving Laska to wonder what the hell he was up to. Suddenly without warning, Laska felt her chair being pulled from under her. Her normally incredible dexterity could not safe her this time as she tumbled down to the floor. Then, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her rear-end. Disbelief crossed her face as she realized what Minsc had done.

"Mi... You... You kicked me in..." she stammered.

"'Tis but a mild kick, Laska, not like the ones I normally reserve for the Butts of Evil!" Minsc said. "Boo felt it was something you needed right now. You cannot give up. You owe it to Dynaheir and little Imoen!"

For a moment it seemed Laska would jump and attack the large ranger, and the patrons of the Coronet scrambled away from the pair of battle-hardened adventurers, as tension seemed to rise. Then, Laska's snarl made way for a look of sadness.

"Ah, Minsc and Boo and Laska had a lot of fun in last night's fight, haven't we Boo?" Minsc asked his hamster, who returned an excited squeek. "A flurry of punches and cries! But then Laska fell asleep and we had to bring her to bed to rest!"

"You?" Laska asked with a smile. "You brought me to my room last night?"

"Boo thought is was better to let you sleep in your own bed, rather than having you slumped over a table all night." Minsc replied.

Laska simply smiled... It was a simple act of kindness, but it meant a lot to her nonetheless.

"AYE," A gruff, yet cheerful voice greeted the elf from behind. "Thar be the lass that be stirrin' all that trouble the night afor'!"

Laska turned around and stood face-to-face (Well, after she looked down, that is) with a burly dwarven fighter. "Do I know you, sir?" she replied with a hint of suspiscion.

"Aye, lass. We've met briefly last night, while we was both introducing the same Talosian to our fists," the Dwarf laughed, which sounded much like a deep roar. "The name be Korgan, Korgan Bloodaxe. And I cannay say I 'ave e'er met one of those pointy-eared treehugging lily-lovin' pansies who could throw a punch in such a bonnie way as ye. Or keep so many drinks down as well."

"Why thank you, I guess." Laska replied. "My name is Laska Leafwalker and this is Minsc..."

"And Boo..." she added quickly as she noticed the hamster staring at her angrily.

"Aye, well met..." Korgan said with a hearty smile. "I 'ave a proposal for ye, If ye might be interested."

And then there were three, ummm... Four adventures sharing the table. Taking one last look at Minsc, who was eyeing the dwarf with interest, Laska smiled to herself. The ranger had filled her with hope again... 'Only 19.289 gold pieces to go, Imoen...' she thought to herself. 'I am coming for you...'