This story will be dark and light, will contain horrors of abuse and the sweet revenge of spirits never broken by violence. Parts of this tale were very hard for me to write, others were written by me with glee. Anyway, I hope you like the story and I hope it'll make you think.

"This looks like a fine place to rest," Viconia said. The group had been making their way through the depths of the Asylum, looking for an exit, but so far they were not having much luck. However, Viconia had discovered a room with a single entrance, where several cots were located. A good place to rest, especially since a catatonic Laska, who had to be carried by Keldorn, was slowing the party down significantly.

"Hey, Big-Ears," Imoen smiled after Keldorn put her down on one of the cots and went off to help Viconia bar the door with furniture and a broken beam, "Are you alright? Well, that's a stupid question, wasn't it?"

Laska just stared at the ceiling.

"For gods sakes, Laska," Imoen sniffed, "please come back to us... I know, let's reminisce! You know what these cots remind me of, Las?"

"I just figured you'd like this," Gorion smiled wholeheartedly as he was being skipped around by two girls happy to the point of delirium.

"We're gonna run through the woods!" Laska yelled out.

"Cook marsh mellows over a fire!" Imoen licked her lips.

"Tell ghost stories around a campfire," Laska raved.

"Look at birds and throw nuts at squirrels!" Imoen grinned.

"Now, now, girls, calm down," Gorion smiled. "The folder said that it's a fun camp for kids. Educational and soothing, yet fun. I figured you'd like to get away from the keep for two months, and it's good for you to meet kids your age to talk to instead of the monks and guards living here."

"Are you coming with us?" Imoen asked.

"Sweet of you to ask," Gorion smiled, "but I have duties here. Besides, you get to spend two months without your stuffy old dad, so I thought you'd be happy about that."

"Where are we going? When are we going?" Laska asked eagerly.

"Well," Gorion said, "it's a place at the edge of Cloakwood called Camp Peaceful. According to the brochure it has a large lake, a private forest, luxurious bunk-buildings, high-quality food and competent caretakers. I think I can entrust them with you."

"We'll be good!" Imoen smiled and hopped in glee.

"Laska, you will behave," Gorion nodded.

"Why are you picking on me, dad?!" Laska said defiantly.

"Because you blew up the barn last week," Gorion said, crossing his arms.

"I knew you'd bring that up," Laska looked at the ground. "I didn't know that keg of gunpowder was loaded!"

"No excuses, young lady," Gorion smiled. "You look after your little sister when you two are gone. This'll be the first time you'll be on your own, so you might even learn some responsibility."

"Awww, responsibility sucks!" Laska pouted.

"Nevertheless," Gorion grinned. "Go pack your things, because you'll be leaving in an hour."

The two excited girls ran up the stairs to pack their things. Quick as a flash, the girls tossed clothes and their stash of candy into their suitcases and ran down again... only to have Gorion repack their suitcases so that half of their contents weren't sticking out on the side. Imoen made special care to carefully pack her little rag doll 'Dolly', a soft knitted puppet with a white cloth for a dress and buttons for eyes. Imoen loved the doll, even though it was almost as old as she was, and couldn't sleep without it.

By the time they were done, the cart that would be taking them to the camp had arrived. Together, Gorion escorted them to the gate, were the driver was waiting for them. The driver was a burly man, who grimly took the suitcases and put them on the cart.

"I'm sure going to miss your boisterousness for the next two months," Gorion said as he hugged his children.

"Oh, don't be silly," Laska joked. "You're glad to be rid of us for the next two months so you can have some quiet."

"Hey, I'll miss you, no doubt about that," Gorion smiled as he put both girls in the cart. However, Gorion noticed something odd.

"Two swords and a set of bullwhips?" Gorion asked the driver. "Are you always this heavily armed? You are merely transporting children."

"Bandits," was all he said. "Been drivin' me crazy. Got some sticks here too to beat them with."

"Yes, well," Gorion said. "Be careful with my children, will you?"

"Sure, sure, old man," the driver snorted. "It's me living, you know?"

The cart set on the journey to the camp, and the happy and eager children waved to their father until he was a mere speck in the distance.

The trip took two hours, and the happy children partook in singing a popular kiddy song. "98 vicious orcs on the wall, 98 vicious orcs! If one of those orcs would happen to fall, 97 vicious orcs on the wall!" Laska and Imoen sang fully aloud.

The driver gritted his teeth. They'd been counting down from 500. "97 vicious orcs on the wall, 97 vicious orcs! If one of those orcs would happen to fall, 96..."

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" the driver shouted. "STOP TORMENTING ME BEFORE I SELL YOU TO... Ermm, I mean", the driver caught himself, "we're there!"

Over his shoulder, the children gasped with joy. The camp was in the distance looming before them. They could see the lake and the wooden buildings. And the huge field with the picknicktables, and the playground... and the campfire pits. Laska and Imoen where quickly whispering to each other what they were going to do first.

Quickly enough the driver set them at the gate with their suitcases. The two children eagerly ran inside, certainly when they saw there were other carts with newcomers, and they wanted to claim bunks next to each other before all the good spots were taken. After looking around for a bit, and all the other new arrivals entered the compound, they suddenly heard a heavy lock closing behind them. Staring back, they found their driver staring back at them from the other side of the fence with a toothy grin. "Welcome to Hell, kids," he grinned.

Laska was the first to notice something was horribly wrong. The entire compound was surrounded by a ten-foot high fence, which completely cut off their access to the forest. Laska found this odd, since the forest-trips were the main reason this camp was supposed to be run. Also the lake was cut off by a somewhat lower fence. In fact, the only thing inside the fence was a weird cave with a playground in front... a playground with shovels and picks and a funny cart leading into the cave on tracks.

Come to think of it, the wooden buildings looked less rotten from the distance too.

Imoen gave another observation. "Hey, look at the kids," she said. "Nobody's talking to each other!" Indeed, the children, some as young as twelve, others looking seventeen, were staring blanking in front of them, not seeing their surroundings. They were all wearing the same bland grey clothes. Some were covered with soot, others were grimy. Most of them had strange welts on their arms and what was exposed of their backs. Nobody was talking to each other and they didn't look particularly well-fed.

"Hi!" Imoen called out to a girl. "Wanna be our friend?"

Saying nothing, the girl passed without giving her a glance. "Well, nuts to you!" Imoen shot back and stuck out her tongue.

A group of men wearing leather armor and looking dangerously armed approached the kids. Immediately, they started to take away the kids' suitcases.

"Imoen," Laska whispered. "Hide your Dolly under your clothes."

"But why?" Imoen asked.

"Just do it!" Laska hissed. "Or you'll never see her again."

Imoen pouted, quickly too her dolly from her suitcase and stuffed her in a small pouch tied to her belt which would be hidden under her long tunic.

Finally, the group of men were standing in front of her. The middle man was a scrawny looking weasel with a moustache and a sardonic smile who dressed like a fop. The man on the right was huge and muscular and carried a whip. The man on the left, however, was long and thin, and carried several batons on his belt. Laska noticed he was also looking at her in a rather odd way.

"Hello there, children," the man greeted with a fake smile. "I am director S'dist and this," he pointed to the man on the right, "is overseer Bonek. And this," motioned to the left man, "is overseer Rinkle. Your name and age, please."

"I... Imoen, 12," Imoen gulped.

"Laska," the elf spoke defiantly, "19."

"HAH!" Bonek said, unlocked his whip and lashed it in front of Laska's feet making Imoen yelp. "You little liar! You don't look a day over twelve. You're a scrawny little thing, aren't you? Not been finishing your plate?"

"I am 19!" Laska hissed. "It's because I'm an elf, assmunch!"

"Watch it, you little freak!" Bonek snarled and roughly picked Laska up by her wrapping both arms around her waist and hoisted her in the air. "Or I'll snap your scrawny body in two." Laska grimaced as she felt the pressure of his squeezing hands cramming against her midriff. Then, Laska was suddenly unceremoniously dropped to the ground. Immediately, Imoen was at her side, and both girls looked up at their captors.

"Resistance is hopeless," S'dist grinned like a shark. "You will work for us now. And you will work hard. When you get out of here... if you get out of here, your parents will see that you have become new persons. Obedient and submissive, like good kids should be. First of all, you'll have no need for your fancy clothes. You'll wear the same as everyone else."

"Those grey rags?" Imoen asked. "They look like they itch."

"Silence!" Bonek snarled and cracked the whip in front of Imoen's feet. Poor Imoen yelped and started to sniffle. Immediately, Laska stood between Imoen and the three tyrants.

"Well," S'dist smiled. "It is going to be quite a task to break you two... but they all break down eventually. You'll get with the program soon, and then you'll be who we'll mold you to be. Good, hard and honest workers who'll respond well to authority. Now go to the barracks and prepare for work. Here you have to earn your keep."

But in her mind, Laska was already planning escape. She had never been in a truly dangerous situation before now, and truth be told she found it a little exciting... but she worried more for Imoen.

Two days had passed and Laska wasn't any step closer to escaping. The walls were too high too climb, and the overseers had been clever enough not to put any loose crates near. Also, the buildings were too far from the fence as well, making it impossible to climb or jumped over it that way. There were no overhanging branches, no high rocks, and all the trees near the fence had been reduced to stumps long ago. Also the tower was constantly guarded by two men up in the guard-tower. Escape would be very difficult, though she hoped she might fight something at the so-called workplace she'd be going for the first time tomorrow.

But at the moment, they were having communal dinner at the shabby dinner hall. It smelled musty and all the tables wobbled. But the food was the most horrible. It was a grayish goo making sucking sounds when prodded. It tasted horribly to say the least.

"Awww," Imoen pouted. "Not more of this stuff. It tastes so yucky! I'm gonna ask for some sugar in it."

"Imoen," Laska gagged from her own dinner. "Don't..."

But Imoen was very determined when on a sugar-search and had already approached the hulking Bonek overlooking the kids while they ate in silence, holding up her bowl.

"What?!" Bonek roared. "You want SUGAR?! Our delicious gruel has everything little girls need to grew : salt, and soybeans! Lotsa soybeans. And pieces of shredded old rope for flavor!"

"But... it tastes lousy," Imoen pouted.

"Well, well, well," Bonek snarled. "It seems we have a spoilt little brat here. Oh, our divine food isn't good enough for our little princess, ey? Wadda you say," he took a baton from his belt, "we should punish this little prissy girl, no?"

In a flash, Bonek suddenly saw the little elven girl step between her and him. "Leave her alone!" Laska snarled at him. The enraged brute was only more enraged after this show of defiance and took his whip from his belt. In an effort to frighten the child away, he cracked it at her, thinking the girl would shy away or even run. But Laska did not move... not even when she felt the whip biting into her cheek. Bonek was actually taken aback by the girl's defiance. Even though droplets of blood were running from her cheek down her neck, she never took her look of hatred away from him.

"Very well," Bonek finally said and took his baton again. "You will take her punishment upon you, then." Immediately, Bonek grabbed Laska, turned her around and pressed her against the table. Laska grimaced in pain as she felt the baton slam against her back. And again. And again. And again. But Laska kept staring forward in silence... defiant silence to which Bonek to offence. "Dammit, girl! Cry out! CRY OUT!" He increased the force in his blows again and again. Laska shuddered in pain, but otherwise remained silent. Suddenly, Rinkle caught Bonek's hand.

"Stop it, fool!" Rinkle said. "She's no good to me, um, I mean US crippled! How do you expect her to work if you break her back."

"Argh!" Bonek dropped his baton. "I'll be watching you, you little freak!"

Guided by Imoen, Laska was led to the barracks. Filthy barracks made up of haphazardly placed cots, itchy and rough blankets and cockroaches running free. Immediately, Laska dropped on her belly in the cot, and, in the private company of friends, she burst out in tears. "It hurts..." she sobbed. "It hurts so much."

"I'm sorry, sis," Imoen smiled, took her Dolly from under the hiding place under her pillow and pressed it against the face of her sobbing sister.

"Don't worry," a boy whispered from another bunk. "You'll get used to it. It won't hurt this much again after a while."

"Who are you?" Imoen asked.

"Haron," the boy spoke. Imoen smiled happily, but noticed there was a numbness behind Haron's haggard eyes. "You'll have to get used to it, or they'll hurt you even more."

"But... we can write letters tomorrow," Imoen said. "We can ask our dad to get us out of here! He's a good guy!"

"That's what I thought of my parents," Haron sighed. "I ask them to get me out of here every time... but they never do. They just don't care."

"H-how long have you been here?" Imoen asked.

"Almost a year," Haron sighed, leaving Imoen cold with fear.

Gorion sat in his study, pouring over some old tomes he had been meaning to read... but he couldn't concentrate. It was simply too quiet without the children. Sighing, he sat back in his chair... he missed Laska and Imoen and they had only been away for a week. He just consoled himself with the fact that Laska and Imoen must have been having so much fun right now.

Laska plopped herself on her hard cot and let out a sigh of exhaustion. She had quickly found out that the 'playground' in front of the cave wasn't a playground, and that the 'cave' wasn't a cave, but a mine.

Most kids were instructed to report to the mine for the cutting of ore. Laska had been pushing ore-carts in and out of the mine all day. Luckily, for Imoen, she had been allowed to have her single free day a week... Although, 'Free day' actually meant cleaning duty instead of mine duty. And Bonek was always there with other overseers, ready with the whip and baton. Sadly, Laska's defiance had made her a popular target for his ridicule.

And when the day was done, the overseers did a marvelous job at getting the children to shout and curse at each other. It was easy to do, since the kids were all frustrated and tired to begin with, and it stripped away the last bit of dignity some of them had left.

"Tired?" Imoen asked from her cot.

"Our letters have been sent," Laska said. "Why didn't dad get us out of here yet?"

"Maybe they haven't arrived yet," Imoen said.

"Or maybe," a pained look crossed Laska's feature. "Do you think... dad doesn't want us anymore?"

"What? Don't say that?"

"It's true... maybe we've just been too bad and he put us here to get rid of us," Laska sniffed.

"Hey, don't say that!" Imoen snapped. "If he gets our letters, he'll come. Unless... he never got our letters," Imoen looked downtrodden.

"Maybe you're right," Laska said, still sleeping on her stomach because the welts on her back still hurt. Mercifully, Imoen had not been beaten yet, but she feared she might not prevent that much longer. "We... we have to escape ourselves."

"Sneak out?" Imoen whispered, and clutched her Dolly to her side. "I'll take Dolly with me just in case..."

"... we get lucky," Laska finished for her.

Together, both sisters crept as quietly as a mouse through the dark corridors of the barracks until they stood outside. The barracks wasn't guarded, but it was soon revealed they didn't have too : the guard-tower was manned at night. The two children quickly hid behind a couple of trash cans while the guard looked their way before returning to his rounds. Disappointed, the children were about to go back until they spotted light coming from one of the windows in the overseer building. Not being able to resist their curiosity, the sisters crept over to it, doing their best to avoid being spotted. When they finally peeked into the window, they saw director S'dist having dinner with Bonek and Rinkle.

"Chicken!" Laska licked her lips when she saw their dinner-table.

"Chocolate pudding!" Imoen sighed.

"Cooked Ham."

"Chocolate pudding!" Imoen sighed again.

"Kippers!"

"Chocolate pudding," Imoen sighed once more.

"And they let us eat gruel?" Laska snarled.

"Ssssh, let's hear what they say," Imoen said.

"Well," Bonek grinned. "We've got a good deal going on here, haven't we?"

"By the way," Rinkle smiled. "We made a fortune selling those kiddie-clothes to the boutique in Baldur's Gate."

"More money for us," S'dist grinned. "Yes, yes, those fools. They let their kids stay here for 80 gold a day. They're our slaves to do with as we please and their parents pay us for it! Pretty good deal if you ask me."

"Don't they want their kids back one day," one of the junior overseers asked.

"Oh, we have our marketing-guys at the Baldur's Gate office to make sure to dumb down the parents enough to keep those kids here for years," the director grinned. "They won't be the wiser and we'll make a bundle!"

"But is it wise to give them shovels and pickaxes and mining tools?" the overseer asked. "There are only ten of us and over a hundred of them."

"Those tiny runts?" Bonek snarled. "Those dregs don't dare to do anything against us. Not with me around."

"Those rotten poopyheads!" Imoen said.

"We can't escape..." Laska's face fell, "but there may be other ways. Maybe take out the guards?"

"But we're just kids!" Imoen said.

"Maybe, but kids can be very strong," Laska grinned. In silence, they crept back to their bunks.

Gorion had travelled to Baldur's Gate to attend the first parent-meeting. No doubt he'd find support from other parents who have been missing their children.

He entered the main hall of a building in the middle of the city, and sat down in the back row. Sadly, he had arrive a bit late so there had been no time for a meet and greet. He looked around, and saw that most of the people here ranged from rich nobles to middle class. In front of the room behind a pedestal stood a blonde woman with a half-convincing plastic smile.

"Greetings, parents," the woman bubbled. "Please to accept the letters that your children have written for you."

Happily, Gorion went to the table where the letters were kept and leafed through the enveloped until he noticed familiar handwriting. He sat down in his seat and opened the envelopes, expecting to read how much fun the kids were having. He wasn't prepared for Imoen's account, though:

Daddydaddydaddy, please let us come home, this place is dirty and the beds are hard and there is no good food and no chocolate and they beat Laska and they make us work in mines and they make us march and clean stuff and make us shout to each other. Still haven't had any marsh mellows. Please please please can I come home?

Love,
Imoen

Laska's letter was shorter but no less disturbing.

It sucks!

Love,
Laska.

"Ermm, excuse me, miss," Gorion stood up with letters in hand.

"Oh, a new guy, eh?" a merchant next to him smiled. "Don't worry, we all went through this."

"What do you mean?" Gorion asked.

"Excuse me, miss Runa?" the merchant smiled. "We've got another live one here!"

"Ah, sir!" miss Runa smiled her even more plasticy smile here. "Do not worry, sir. City children are often shocked to have to wing it in the woods and want to come back as quickly as possible. Do not worry, sir, these are just manipulative lies designed to play on your emotions."

"My children," Gorion glowered, "do not lie..."

"Oh, here we go," the merchant chuckled. "I'm sure. My kid's been there for almost a year and he's still lying about it being a horrible place. He's a tenacious busybody."

"Sure," another lady from the crowd of parents spoke. "They just keep trying and trying, but it won't work."

"Wait a minute," Gorion blinked. "What's going one here? Did all of you get these types of letters?"

"Of course," the lady spoke, "and they're all lies."

"But... all of you get these letters stating how horrible that place is?! And none of you thought what could be wrong in this picture?"

"Well, of course the kids are lying to us," another lady retorted, "that nice miss Runa said so!"

"Oh, I'm sure miss Runa knows all," Gorion spat.

"Now, calm down, sir," miss Runa said, her plastic smile now getting a bit worried. "There's no need to raise your voice."

"I am worried about my children!" Gorion snarled. "And I am suddenly getting the feeling that you've been pulling the wool over my eyes and that of my fellow parents here!"

"Now, now, sit down," the merchant said. "Miss Runa assured us the camp is a kid's paradise run by professionals..."

"Overseer?" the little girl Yvonne asked carefully. "Why did you throw those rusty nails there at the mine-entrance? We have to walk there and Boida already stepped in one of them twice."

"Because I didn't want to walk all the way to the trashcan!" the overseer snarled. "Now get back to work before I beat you again. Just watch where you're going, brat."

"Aren't you at the least bit concerned about the safety of your own children?" Gorion shouted out.

"Hey, sit down!"

"Yes, they like it there. Miss Runa said so!"

"Besides, I'm happy to be rid of the brat for a while."

"They like it so much, I've signed them on for another year!"

"Yeah!"

Faced with so much ignorance, Gorion finally lost his temper. "Are you blind?! Did all of you get letters about beatings and hard labor? And you don't think anything's wrong with that?!"

"It just shows how crafty they are!" the merchant snarled.

"Runa!" Gorion snarled. "I want my kids out of there this instant!"

"N-now, sir," miss Runa clearly wasn't expecting some other person than an easily manipulated fop or an overworked parent, "p-please calm down. We're really helping your kids! You won't recognize them when they get back!"

"That's what I'm afraid of!" Gorion said and stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get my kids back from your camp of horrors!"

"Come on," miss Runa smiled, trying to save face. "Mister Gorion, do you really want your kids to run wild across the countryside, getting into all sorts of adventurers and tattooing every inch of their skin? Our program can prevent that!"

"Lady," Gorion said. "I want my kids to be themselves! If that involves adventure and tattoos, that is their choice. But let it be their choice and theirs alone."

Before leaving the door, he turned around and looked at the flabbergasted parents one more time. "MORONS!" he shouted into the room.

The anger quickly turned into fear as Gorion made his way through the streets of Baldur's Gate. He knew his children were in danger. The warning signs were in the letters, and he didn't know how the other parents couldn't miss them. Parents were supposed to protect their children from harm, after all.

Still, he had no idea where the camp was, only that it was somewhere in the woods north-east of Beregost. Then, a casual glance at a children's boutique ended with him being pressed with both hands and cheek against the glance : in the boutique, the play tunics of both his daughters were displaying in the window.

The lady who owned the boutique was very nice, and even went as far as to give him back his children's clothes at no cost. The lady had told him she had been buying second hand clothes from two traders... One of them's description carefully matched that of miss Runa. When Gorion told her where the clothes came from, she said she would report it with the Flaming Fist and would never do business with them again.

Checking in the register of the Seven Suns Trading coster, he had found out that the camp was actually owned by a trade organization from Sembia that was relatively new to this area : the Iron Throne. From his old contacts with the Harpers, he had heard some very bad things about the Iron Throne, and he decided that, when this would be over, he would have to keep an eye on their activities.

Also, he discovered that there were a number of complaints filed at the Seven Suns for malpractice. He also noticed that many of these cases were never handled because the witnesses had all dropped the charges at one point.

Finally, he started talking to some of the people who had filed charges, and only found one mother who was willing to speak with her. Her son, previously a lively boy, had been broken down into a mental wreck who was scared of his own shadow. He had been at the camp for half a year, and it destroyed him. After filing the complaint, both mother and son had been threatened, forcing them to drop the charges. With grim determination, Gorion decided to take his evidence to the Flaming Fist. But he knew that if they wouldn't help him, he'd go in with his magic alone.

"So why don't you two girls just go with the program and submit, already," the director spoke while Imoen stood in his office. But she wasn't afraid. Laska told her not to fear these mean old men, because that was what they wanted.

"Lilly had fallen down," Imoen spoke. "And an overseer wanted to beat her. We didn't want..."

"YOU DON'T 'WANT' ANYTHING!" the director roared. "Your ill-gotten sister is being punished as we speak. Bane, almighty, I've never come across more troublesome kids than you. Well, we know how to deal with little hellions like you..."

But Imoen didn't hear his words. Instead, her attention focused on the key ring hanging from his belt. Somehow, it was alluring to her... seductive. So while the director was giving the lecture, and turn his back to her, Imoen saw her chance. Creeping every closer until she could reach it, her little hands reached out and took the key ring right from the belt. Immediately, Imoen ran for the door.

"Hey, what?!" the director shouted. "Come back here, you little brat!"

Imoen ran through the overseer building, fingering the key ring. To her delight, she found that all the keys were labeled. Grinning and with the director in hot pursuit, she came up with a plan. The little girl ran right into the storeroom and dove behind a couple of crates near the exit. Of course, the director followed and ran right into the storeroom, looking confused when he could not find the little girl.

Imoen, in the meantime, broke her cover and ran out the door, being quick to push it shut, insert the key and twisted it locked. Finally she stuck out her tongue at the door as the director started banging on it.

Now, she only had to go and find her sister.

Laska grimaced in pain as the overseer pulled her arms back and pressed his knee into her back, putting more pressure on the bruises on her back. There was pure hatred in Laska's eyes, put malice. She wanted to kill the overseers, and she would if given the chance. She just hoped Imoen wasn't in the same state. She wouldn't be able to protect her sister from this position.

"That's enough," the thin man called Rinkle sounded from behind. "You can go now. I can handle it from here.

"But..."

"GO!" Rinkle snapped at the overseer. The overseer nodded, and Rinkle escorted him out. Laska got up and suddenly noticed that Rinkle had that same weird look in his eyes. She also became slightly alarmed when she heard him lock the door.

"My, my, my," Rinkle said, giving her that weird look again. "You are a pretty little girl, aren't you? Yes, a very precious little girl." Rinkle was now standing directly in front of her, towering over the small elf. "You want to keep old Rinkle happy, don't you?"

Laska blinked for a moment, not knowing what he meant. But then she noticed a dagger hanging from his belt. Laska had played with wooden swords before, and had been allowed to touch smaller weapons on numerous occasion, but still a dagger in her small hand had felt like a short sword in comparison.

Still, Laska saw her chance, especially since the man was apparently busy thinking of... something else. Puzzled, Laska wondered why the man had just asked her if he could rub her tummy. The distraction was adequate though.

With all the speed that her elven kin was blessed with, Laska tore the dagger from the sheath and slammed it down, impaling Rinkle's foot and pinning it to the floor. Rinkle screamed in pain, but was quickly silenced when Laska slammed one of the overseer's left batons into his jaw.

Her joy was short-lived, though, considering someone was jarring at the door. Quickly, Laska jerked the dagger free but stopped short to watch it from a moment. She was oddly fascinated by the bloodied dagger.

"Whoa!" Imoen yelped as she walked through the door. "Did you kill him?!"

"No," Laska said. "But maybe this dagger is enough for us to escape. Come on, let's go and close the door behind you."

"Work harder, you little freaks, damn you!" Bonek shouted as he cracked his whip at the children in the mine like the wretched sadist he was. Of all the overseers, he was the one who enjoyed his job the most.

"HEY!" Laska shouted defiantly and stared the man down from the entrance of the mine. "Yeah, you! SUCKFACE!"

"What?!" Bonek shouted. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at..."

"Hey, blow it out your ass, maniac!" Laska grinned. "Your days are numbered." The tone in Laska's voice caused all kids to stop working and look for cover.

"You little freak," Bonek snarled. "I'm gonna do what I was supposed to do the first time you defied me! No little freak gets the better of me."

But when the enraged Bonek snapped at her with his whip, Laska saw her chance. She took the dagger from her behind her back and sped forward, actually avoiding the whip and diving between Bonek's legs. Not really seeing, she slashed the dagger around wildly, hoping she'd hit something... and she did. With a twang, not one but both tendons in the back of one of his knees were sliced neatly in half. Bonek roared in pain and was felled like a tree, landing neatly on top of the track.

"You... you little freak!" Bonek yelled out. Once again, pure unadulterated rage from which Laska didn't know the source ran though her being. Laska snarled and picked up a pick-axe.

"This," she said, raising the pick-axe over her head with superhuman strength, "is for all the kids you hurt!" Then, she slammed it down. Bonek screamed as he suddenly found himself impaled through the shoulder, pinning him to the track. He moaned in pain, but could no longer put up a fight.

The on-looking kids gazed upon the spectacle of the fallen Bonek with silent fascination. The sight of the fallen brute sent a message of hope through their very beings : Their masters weren't invincible! One by one, they picked up sticks, shovels and other mining tools, and as one, they menacingly set up the remaining overseers.

"P-please don't hurt us!" one of the overseers yelled out as the trembling overseers knew it was all over.

"There it is," Gorion yelled out, getting ever more nervous as he approached the camp looming up in the distance.

"Are you sure this is it?" Scar, a young lieutenant in the Flaming Fist and leader of the small contingent of officers, spoke. "The kids look... happy."

Indeed, the children were whooping and playing... and one of them was letting up a kite. Others were sitting at the pick-nick table, scuffing down chicken, ham and chocolate pudding with great fervor.

"Well, sir," one of the soldier said, "there seem to be grown-ups tied to that totem-pole."

"Figures," Scar grinned.

"I know who's the culprit," Gorion grinned, then took off and sped down the hill... But a pair of sharp eyes spotted him first. Laska, who was standing by Imoen at the table, tugged at her sister's shirt. Imoen, her mouth covered with chocolate pudding, seemed annoyed at having her dinner disturbed, but when she stopped Gorion it was all okay.

The two girls flung themselves into Gorion's arms, letting tears of joy flowing over their cheeks.

"Sssh," Gorion smiled. "It's okay. It's okay. You're safe now."

Gorion noticed that Laska hissed in pain after he felt her back. Softly, Gorion lifted the back of Laska's shirt and grimaced when he noticed welts and bruises all over her little back.

"It doesn't hurt as much anymore," Laska said. "You get used to it."

Gorion's expression darkened. "Laska, go to the clerics of the Flaming Fist. Imoen, tell everyone who's hurt can go to the Flaming Fist cleric for help... I've got a bone to pick with the people in charge."

"Let me out of here, you brat! I swear, I'll have you beaten so badly you won't walk for a week!" shouted director S'Dist. Then, suddenly, the door opened... and S'Dist noticed he was suddenly confronted with a very angry cadre of Flaming Fist soldiers.

"Ah, ermm," S'Dist gulped. "What be the problem here, officers?"

Gorion was upon him, grabbed him by the color and pushed him back into the wall. "Pathetic piece of filth! Try to pick on someone your own size!" Again, Gorion picked the now weeping man and slammed him face-first into the wall, after which he slid down to the floor unconscious.

"In case you're wondering," Scar said as he walked up to Gorion, "we picked up miss Runa before we left. And with all these arrests, Camp Peaceful is finished."

"Good," Gorion said.

"I should tell you that," Scar said with a hushed voice, "that the man Bonek who your daughter attacked is dead. He bled to death in the mine, but if even a fraction of the stories these poor kids told are true, that's not a big loss."

"I see," Gorion nodded. "Please do me a favor and don't tell Laska. She's too young to have to deal with this."

"You have it," Scar said. "You know, before we send these kids home..."

"Back to Idiots Anonymous," Gorion spat.

"Me and my men have some leave-time accumulated," Scar said, "and with the overseers to do the work for us, we can have them tear down the fences and clean up the place so we can actually turn this place into an actual vacation-camp. Of course, we'll give the kids the overseers barracks. At least they'll have some fun out of it."

"Leave the kids to decide who wants to stay or go home," Gorion said. "I can imagine plenty of them are sick of this place."

Gorion then stared out the windows and saw Laska and Imoen throwing a frisbee around. "And give those who want to stay to have some fun the time of their lives. They've earned it."

"That was great, wasn't it?" Imoen sniffed as she sat on the cot cradling Laska's head in her lap as she ran her fingers through the elf's hair. The elf had finally fallen asleep and seemed a lot more peaceful.

"Please come back, Big-Ears," Imoen said. "I love you... We all love you..."

The pink-haired mage let her tears drop on Laska's cheek. "Here," Imoen said and took a ratty looking rag-doll from a hidden pouch in her belt, "I've kept Dolly all these years. She kept me safe... Let her watch over you tonight." That said, Imoen tucked in her sister and pressed Dolly against her cheek. Taking a last moment to kiss Laska's forehead, Imoen returned to her own cot, hoping to catch some sleep herself before they would have to move again.