The City of Caverns was once again filling up with Sahaugin which had been previously banished by the now dead king. Laska, however, couldn't care less about that. She spent most of her time in the main square, underneath the massive jaws, staring into the distance. Laska sat cross-legged in a lotus-position on top of one of the pedestals overlooking the city and the caverns below, only a mere inch away from the massive 200 foot drop in front of her.

Lost in thought for most of the time, Laska recalled her fondest memories. Most recently, she had been thinking of the time she and Rose had spent together just before embarking on the trip of Spellhold. Laska had been hard at work in the backyard, weeding her garden and planting a new flower bed as well as some small trees.

While Laska had been sitting on her knees digging in dirt, Rose had approached her and stood over the elf as she worked. "I love your nurturing side," Rose had said. "You should really let it out more often."

"Nah," Laska had replied with a grin. "I prefer the more destructive elements, you know? But it's nice to do something else for a change."

"Do you often think of the future, Laska?" Rose had asked.

"Sometimes," Laska had said while continuing work. "But not much. I'm usually to busy to avoid being killed. What about you?"

"My future... It began when I met you, and I want you to be in it forever," Rose had smiled.

"There's a sappy thought," Laska had grinned, earning herself a playful slap to the back of the head. "Hey," Laska had responded semi-indignantly. "Don't slap me when I'm holding a sharp garden tool. I don't wanna end up a Happy Tree Friend."

"Sorry," Rose had smiled. "But you didn't answer my question, sly elf."

"I love you," Laska looked over her shoulder. "Answer enough?"

Rose had responded by slowly rubbing Laska's neck. "Yes," Rose had replied.

"Hey," Laska had grinned and stopped working. "We're the only ones at home right now."

"Fresh," Rose had chuckled. "Is that the only thing you can ever think about?"

Laska had turned around and embraced her lover. "You're one to talk."

As Laska watched over the city, she reflected on how much undressing Rose was like opening a long and eagerly awaited birthday-gift, wanting to throw yourself at it with ferocity, yet maintaining a measure of composure to facilitate that feeling of butterflies tickling your insides. That was one thing... she was also amazed how quickly a pair of leather pants, two boots and a vest could be removed by a nimble half-elf.

They had made love in the warm grass that day. And for a moment, Laska closed her eyes and relived that memory. The memory of Rose's soft hands and even softer lips roaming over her skin filled her with joy and terrible sadness at the same time. Thoughts then passed to another moment in time, when she had pleasured Rose in much the same manner. Making love to Rose allowed her to give much of herself... but no more.

Laska sighed... Still, seeing her hands had been covered with earth when they started their game of love, a cleaning was in order... that had ended up being most pleasurable as well. It was a bittersweet memory. It was one of the last times they had made love before Laska had been robbed of her spirit. That, and they were caught by Risa and Becky when the girls had gotten back from school early. The rest of the week, Rose had always gone bright red whenever the two girls giggled.

But she was gone now. No more kisses, no more love, no more companionship... And she felt so empty inside.

"Godsdammit," Laska whispered into the darkness. "Love isn't worth the bloody hassle."

"Laska?" the elf heard the voice of Imoen drifting over the square.

"Buffer off," Laska spoke silently and without passion.

"Come on, Laska," Imoen pressed. "I need to talk to you."

"I told you to buffer off."

"Viconia found a way out of this city. Come on, Las, we have to get out of here and get back to Athkatla. So that we can find Irenicus and get our souls back."

"I'm still telling you to bugger off."

"Laska," Imoen pressed. "Without your spirit, you'll die. And we'll be trapped in this city forever between these smelly, creepy sharkdudes."

"Hmmm," Laska said. "Nope, I still want you to bugger off."

"LASKA LEAFWALKER!" Imoen yelled. "Do you want Rose to have died for nothing?"

That caught Laska's attention.

"Now get off your elven ass and follow me," Imoen said and extended her hand.

Laska simply stared at the little mage, and for a moment, Imoen felt Laska's cold stare go right through her.

"Let's go then," Laska finally said, but it sounded defeated and deflated.

Viconia led the party to another part of the city. There was a startlingly sudden change in architecture here. The clunky craftmanship of the shark men seamlessly made place for hauntingly beautiful black marble and spider-web motifs, all suspended over a deep chasm.

"I found out," Viconia said, "that this miserable excuse for a city was once conquered by my people. The new viceroy of the city wanted to create a piece of home... not to mention a lavish palace. Sadly for that worm of a male, the Sahaugin struck back and took back their city. Through it is an entrance below."

"Below?" Dynaheir asked.

"Oh, didn't I mention that?" Viconia said while they made their way over the walkway. "We are going to have to traverse the Underdark to get back to the mainland."

"Oh, isn't it wonderful Boo!" Minsc raved and hugged his little hamster. "The Underdark is filled to the brim with butts in need of a good kicking! I can't wait to meet the first ass down there!"

"Are you sure this is safe?" Imoen asked while she kept an eye on her sister, who silently trailed behind.

"The Underdark and 'safe' are far from synonymous," Viconia said. "But if we avoid trouble we should be relatively safe. The biggest problem right now is getting there, though."

Soon, they came to a open round plateau in the middle of the city. They were standing on top of a large round disk with a spider motif etched in the floor. Six chests stood on each side, and two small imps fluttered around, trying to attract the party's attention.

"You are adventurerssssss, right?" one of the imps asked.

"Yes! YES! Play our game! Play our game! Win a prize," the other imp raved.

"Yessss... All you have to do is to guesss whatssss in my chestesussss..."

Laska, however, was not amused. With dazzling speed, she snatched one of the imps out of the air and grasped it in a single hand. Holding the creature around the neck and pressing against its face with her thumb, Laska started to squeeze. "Play my game, " Laska grinned wickedly. "Let's see how many twists it takes before your head falls off..."

"Aaaaah," the imp shouted as it tore itself free. "Prizes in those chest! Take! TAKE!"

"You win!" the other imp shouted as the two of them flew off into the city.

"Laska!" Imoen admonished. "That was unnecessary!"

Laska just stared at Imoen. Then, she mocked her by snorting. The elf strolled over to the chest, opened it and pulled out a magic ring and a magic cloak. Without saying a word, she divided the prize by tossing the cloak to Viconia and the ring to Imoen.

"Ach," Korgan said. "I be sayin' ye be gettin' better with yer people skills, elfie. HAR!"

At the end of the plateau, a huge gaping hole led into the darkness below. It resembled a giant maw waiting to swallow them up whole. But as the party approached, a puff of smoke exploded right in their path. Suddenly, in front of them, a large floating beholder with four eyestalks appeared in front of them. Its wide mouth formed a semi-circle shaped, yet toothy smile.

"Behold!" Keldorn spoke up. "A beast most foul has emerged!"

"Wow," Imoen grinned. "That's exactly what prince Pierce-a-lot the Chastitybeltcruncher said in Brothels of the Damned... the Damned Good Looking!"

"Hey there, hi there, howdy," the beholder greeted. "Name's Spec, the leanest meanest guarding beholder. Here, take my business-card!"

Immediately, a small card appeared in Imoen's hand. It read: "Spectator. Member of the Guardian Guild of Beholders. Works reasonable hours for low pay. Does NOT work well with guard dogs and feral imps. Call 1-800-Gasbags on your nearest pay-scry for details and hiring."

"Hmm," Laska said and drew her swords. "I wonder if Beholders are really filled with gas. Let's find out."

"Ahum," the spectator said. "*cough* Psycho! *cough*"

"ARE YOU CALLING ME A...!!!" Laska shouted, and could barely be held back by Minsc and Keldorn. "I'll tear your bloody SPHINCTER out and show it to you before you DIE!"

"Geez, you have issues," the Beholder spoke.

"Yeah," Jan said. "Besides, we all know that Beholders are filled with gas. How else do they keep floating?"

"How do they keep afloat, I wonder," Keldorn muttered.

"Flatulence," Jan said matter-of-factly. "Why do you think the biggest Amnian beach resort is always closed for humanoids when the Beholder council holds their annual bowling convention?"

"I just fell right into that one, didn't I?" Keldorn sighed.

"Yep." The Spectator grinned. "I'll keep it in, though. So, what brings you here?"

"We want to go to the Underdark," Viconia spoke. "Well, we don't really want to, but we have no choice."

"Ah," the Spectator spoke. "There's a bit of a problem there. You see, I am charged to guard this passage and let no one pass. I've been on the job for over 100 years and I haven't missed a single day."

"So, um," Imoen asked. "There's no chance of you calling in a sick-day and letting us pass?"

"Well, I like you, I really do, but I'd jeopardize my pension if I did," the Spectator spoke. "And I've been laying into it like crazy over the past 100 years. Man, I'm looking forward to floating over the beaches of Chult, sipping my 17 large Tequila sunrises and baking in the run. Ah, I can't wait. And my time's up in about a month. If you wait that long..."

"Don't listen to Laska. But we don't have that much time," Imoen wailed. "Come on, give us a break, will you?"

"Well," the beholder bit his lip. "There is one official way of passing, if you're up for it."

"What is it?" Imoen asked.

"It's a time-honored tradition, a fan-favorite and a genuine piece of culture."

"What do I have to do?"

The spectator scraped his throat and then said in a deep, booming voice. "In order to pass by me! You must answer questions three!"

"Oh, gods," Keldorn groaned, looked away and rubbed his chin.

"Question the first!" The spectator said. "What is your name?"

"Imoen! That's an easy one!" Imoen smiled.

"Question the second!" The spectator smiled. "What is your quest?"

"To get our souls back and to get back at Irenicus for all he put us through," Imoen smiled.

"To find a pub and drink myself silly," Laska muttered in the back.

"Question the third!" the spectator smiled. "What is the meaning of life, the universe, god and everything?!"

Imoen blanched. "Oh, my... Ermmm, can you repeat the question?"

"OY!" Korgan piped up. "The bloody meanin' o'life is to kick arse, axe skulls, and wear down all ta bloody beermugs in sight! HAR HAR HAR!"

The spectator bit his lip. "Well, works for me. You may pass!"

Another puff of smoke later, the spectator was gone and the path was clear. The magic rope that the shark-priestess had given them did the trick and descended into the dark foreboding depths below. Ever so often, a strange smell or a horrifying sound could be heard. One particular wail was especially frightening. Imoen inched closer and closer to Viconia who in turn stared into the depths below with a hard look on her face.

"Wow," Imoen said. "It sounds like the tortured souls of the dead are waiting for us below."

"It's the Underdark," Viconia nodded. "They probably are."

"I'll go first," Laska said and prepared to grab the rope.

"LASKA, wait," Viconia said. "You're going down there in that?!"

"Yes," Laska said, looking down at her vest and leather pants. "So?"

"Dammit, Laska," Viconia snarled. "Have you listened to a word I said?! Put on your armor!"

"I don't need it," Laska sighed.

"Laska!" Viconia said and strolled up to the elf to look her directly in the eye. "Exercise your self-destructive urges in a place less dangerous and when there are less people depending on you and your skills."

"You won't tell me what I can and cannot do," Laska said. There was a strange gleam in her eyes. "Now, get out of my way. I'm going down there."

"The hell you will! Not before you put on your armor!" Viconia retorted. "I am FROM the Underdark! I know its dangers!"

"Are you challenging my leadership?" Laska menaced. The situation was growing tense.

"I am. I do not take orders from suicidal imbeciles," Viconia spat.

Letting out a cry of anger, Laska raised her arm to back-hand Viconia in the face with full force. But something stopped her as she was about to strike. Something in Viconia's look dared her to strike... and to suffer the consequences. Her look drifted from Viconia to Imoen, who was looking... afraid of her. And to her friends, who were all flabbergasted. Laska balled her hand into a fist, and trembled slightly as she backed down.

"Laska," Keldorn spoke. "Please wear your armor."

Laska rummaged through her bag of holding for her elven chainmail... and climbed down the rope the very last.