Evening at the Three Sisters Spire and Imoen was on the prowl, indulging in one of her favorite hobbies. The place was packed and nobody noticed a little Drow sneaking around, not even if she did had pink hair.

Keeping her innocent composure, Imoen just brushed past one of the merchants who had come in for a drink after a long day of work. With one swift movement, she slashed across the leather strap from which his moneypouch hung from his belt, using a tiny sharpened blade she had been clutching between her index and middle finger. Before she could draw another breath, Imoen let the pouch slip into one of her outfit's many pockets and had been well out of reach of ear and eyeshot before anyone could notice what she'd done.

She grinned : There were plenty of coins and gemstones inside of it. But, to be honest, Imoen prefered the challenge to the monetary games... even though Imoen rather enjoyed shopping as well. There should be enough in here for a nice new winter-cloak.

Just as she passed another one of the guests, her nimble hands suddenly held the ring her victim was wearing around his fingers just moments ago and slid it into another one of her pockets, whistling innocently as she walked on.

All small potatoes until now, because the real target was one of the matrons who had come here tonight with several aides and bodyguards to try her luck at some of the gambling tables. The matron was literally hung with gold and valuables and Imoen simply could not stay away. She was as attracted to the golden glitter as a magpie would be to a piece of tinfoil lying in the sun. Imoen thought the time was ripe to make her move.

It was obvious that the frightened male dealing the cards was doing his best to make the Matron win every hand. He was definitely doing his best to bust as quickly as possible, whether it was from fear of his life or orders from Phaere. Honestly, what kind of attendant would take another card when he had 20 in his hands unless he meant for the matron to win?

Still, the Matron didn't seem aware of it, and was gleefully gathering her winnings... and drawing quite a crowd of onlookers around the table. She most definitely revelled in the moment. Right now, Imoen was part of the crowd and slowly, painfully slowly, inched towards the bodyguard-surrounded matron. Then, as the matron led the crowd into a whoop as she won yet another hand, one of her two jewel-studded earrings made its way into Imoen's pocket.

Another cheer, and the second earring was swiped.

The third time, the matron raised her hands in victory as she won yet another hand... losing two of her most expensive rings in the process.

The final swipe came at the forth cheer. With the same little blade, Imoen cut through the wire of the matron's necklace and pulled it off her neck to put it in one of her pockets.

As she walked away from the table, she chuckled under her breath. The matron had lost more than she could ever gain at the tables without even knowing it.

Sitting down at the bar, Imoen fingered her gains and nodded. A good night of play today : Five pouches, an assortment of jewels, seven wallets, eight rings, two earrings, twelve necklaces and an obsidian-hewn quill. She wanted to order a sweet drink to celebrate, but then she noticed a small box of chocolates sitting on a serving tray, wrapped neatly with a pink bow. Imoen grinned, for she knew a sign when she saw one.

No doubt it was intended for the Matron, but considering she swiped so much from her already, she wouldn't miss this one. Sure, she knew chocolate was an expensive import-item, but, seriously, there couldn't be more than twelve bonbons inside that little box... Who would miss them? And who would fuss over a few little chocolates?

"LOLTH BE DAMNED!" Phaere shouted in front of her gathered security troops. "What the hell were you doing? Eating out of your noses?!"

"Mistress we..."

"SILENCE!" Phaere snarled. "The Three Sisters Spire is sealed effective immediately! Nobody will get in or out until I say otherwise! I want the culprit found, I want the chocolates found and I want someone punished dearly for this insult! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, mistress," the head of security gulped.

"You wanted to see me?" Laska said as she entered Phaere's office. Then she looked at the gathered males and females of the security-troops and raised an eyebrow. "Here? In the office? In front of all of them?"

"No, I haven't asked you here for that," Phaere said. "You might have heard already that there was a chocolate-theft recently."

"Is that what all the fuss is about?" Laska snickered.

"Don't LAUGH!" Phaere gave her an angry look so intense it made Laska freeze in her tracks. "Not only is chocolate very expensive, but this particular box was supposed to be a gift for Matron Devora, one of my more important business relationships. I want that box found, Laska."

"You want me to hunt down a box of chocolates?" Laska blinked. "I thought my days of running errands was over."

"THIS IS NOT AN ERRAND!" Phaere screamed in Laska's face, but then softened her expression. "Laska, I want you to take a few of these nitwits with you, track down the box and KILL whoever has possession of it!"

"Now you're talking my language," Laska grinned. "Okay, Useless and Dull," she pointed at two troops standing beside the Head of Security. "Come with me."

"This crazy!" Imoen was near panic as she stood in front of Viconia who regarded her with a look of disdain.

"You fool!" Viconia said. "It's bad enough that you stole expensive chocolates, but of all the little boxes there are, you just HAD to pick that one, did you?"

"But... but..." Imoen stammered. "They're searching every room! Questioning every guest! The front doors of the inn are locked! Why are they making such a big deal out of this?"

"Because by taking the chocolates intended for the Matron Devora, you have inadvertently made Phaere lose face in front of her business partners. Phaere has no choice. If she lets this matter pass by unchallenged, it will make her look weak in the eyes of her contacts, her clients and her competitors. It could very well finish her. That's why she want the box found so badly."

"Geez," Imoen sat down uncomfortably. "All this over a little box of chocolates."

"None of this will stop until either the box or the thief had been found... and eventually, they will find one or the other... or both."

"I'll just take this box," Imoen said and took it, holding it as if she was cradling a fragile infant. "I'll find a place where they haven't looked yet and hide it there. Or better yet! I'll just give it to Laska... or put it here for her to find."

"Are you mad?!" Viconia hissed. "Far too risky! If any of our group is connected to the theft, we'll all be in grave danger!"

"Well, what am I gonna do then? Destroy the evidence?"

"No," Viconia said. "Give the box to me. I know what to do with it."

"What ARE you going to do with it?"

"Leave that to me, I'll... hey, where'd you get those new earrings?"

"Um, nowhere," Imoen said after quickly removing the diamond-studded earrings and putting them back in her pouch.

Rizzen Mo'riir was ready to head home after a long way of work... this is, if he would be allowed to go home. The chocolates were, after all, still missing. He wondered, as he did many times before, who'd be stupid enough to take him. But as he opened his locker, his heart skipped a beat.

There, sitting on top of his folded shirt, was a small box with a pink ribbon. He stared at it for a long time, as if it would go away if he only looked at it long enough.

Finally, he decided to lift the box from the shirt in an attempt to get rid of it in any way possible... unfortunately for him, he did not get far.

After being roughly pushed into the wall, while his arm was being wrenched behind his back by a tall female with a very menacing voice, he found himself panicking.

"My, my," the female chuckled. "We've found ourself a little thief... Typical, it's always the busboy, isn't it? I guess you spit in people's soup bowl before putting in the soup too, don't you?"

"I... I can get you things! Money and stuff! Just let me go!"

"No," the female whispered in his ear. "I'll get to see you die. You've got a date with Phaere, matey..."

Imoen couldn't look... she really didn't want to see. But she felt she really had to see for herself. Even though it was the dead of night and the back-hall was off-limits, Imoen had snuck past half a legion of guards and was looking from the parapet to see what was going on below.

Laska and Phaere stood next to each other on one side of the room. Facing them, some meters away, stood the matron Imoen had robbed the day before, flanked by two hooded males, each holding a large warscythe.

But in the middle of the room, between the two groups, sat a single male on his knees, sobbing quietly. He had obviously been beaten, judging from the caked blood, the torn clothes and the bruises.

"Here is the thief," Phaere said. "As per clause 12.2a in his contract, his crime of theft has voided my obligation of worker-protection. Since you are the victim of his theft, clause 12.2b stipulates that you may decide his fate. I urge you to consider all the facts and weigh your decision carefully."

Matron Devora nodded. With a flick of the wrist, she motioned her two bodyguards to advance. Imoen ran out of the room as quietly as she could. Just as she entered the hallway, she heard the male's death screams being cruelly cut off.

"You bitch!" Imoen ran into Viconia's room with tears in her eyes. "How could you do that?!" She flew towards Viconia and started banging her fist into her chest in a half-hearted manner. Soon enough she succumbed to tears and clenched onto her Drow friend.

"It had to be done," Viconia said matter-of-factly.

"He was innocent and you know it! His blood is on your hands!"

"This could only have ended in blood," Viconia nodded. "Even if the chocolates were recovered, Phaere would still need a scape coat. I provided her with one... one that could never implicate us and has never even gotten near one of us."

"You made Laska an accomplice to a murder!" Imoen cried. "You destroyed her!"

"She's doing a fine enough job of that herself," Viconia muttered.

"I should have just given the box to Laska," Imoen said. "Then he wouldn't have had to die..."

"And what do you think would have happened then, hm?" Viconia replied harshly. "Everything suddenly being hunky-dory?"

"Well, why not?!" Imoen said. "Laska'd never hand me over to Phaere."

"Are you really sure of that?"

Imoen blinked once... twice. "Of course! Are we even talking about the same Laska? I grew up with her! I know her!"

"I have lived for 200 years, Imoen," Viconia said. "I can recognize madness in someone's eyes when I see it!"

"She would NEVER do anything to harm me! NEVER!" Imoen replied.

"Oh, wise up, Imoen!" Viconia snarled and looked into her eyes. "Will you finally get down from that puffy pink cloud you're living on and realize that she's not exactly sane right now? The person she is now would probably gladly turn you over to Phaere. That manipulative skank has Laska so wrapped around her finger she could make her do a little dance on top of a sleeping dragon at a whim!"

"Phaere has made her gone mad! If we get her out of here, she'll be back to normal!"

"Fool," Viconia said. "You're the last one of us who still thinks Laska is fit to lead us."

"Come on, she's our leader-lady!" Imoen challenged.

"We've talked it over," Viconia said. "Even Korgan thinks Laska's becoming a liability. And Jan just rambled on about his cousin Arab Jansen who wrote this Necronomicrap book out in the desert just before changing his name to Mad Arab Jansen to promote it. The only two who weren't there were you and Minsc. We were afraid either of you would tell Laska about out meeting."

"Cloak and Dagger stuff? What are you doing?"

"Keldorn and I have decided Laska's no longer leading us... for now. We'll come up with a plan to steal the eggs ourselves, without her help. And then, then we will work on a plan to get ourselves... AND Laska... away from this place as far and as fast as possible."

"You have just decided that?" Imoen replied. "How could Keldorn betray Laska just like that? He's a paladin, isn't he? Shouldn't he Fall for something like that?" Imoen started sobbing again. "Oh, this is all such a mess... That poor man..."

"Consider the alternative," Viconia said. "Who knows what would have happened to you if... Sometimes, you need to be protected from yourself! I... I needed to..." Viconia raised her hand with the intention gently to stroke Imoen's cheek, but she withdrew before she could complete the gesture. "Just... just consider the alternative."

"There could have been another way! You could have done something else! It's your fault that man is dead."

"Strange," Viconia said. "You blame Keldorn for betraying Laska. You blame Phaere for corrupting her and driving her to kill. You blame me for making her an accomplice to murder and on top of that, you also blame me for the male's death. And yes, I am responsible for his death, I won't deny that... but, Imoen, you seem to be forgetting who took those chocolates to begin with."

Imoen sobbed for a moment as new tears formed. A brief silence, only interrupted with sniffs, followed. Then, she grabbed a pillow and a sheet and moved to leave the room.

"I'm gonna sleep somewhere else," Imoen whispered harshly just before she left, leaving Viconia to stare behind her.

"Fine," Viconia snarled. "And be damned, then!"

Viconia then sat down at the desk and felt the anger soar through her. Imoen was nothing more than a brat... a selfish dreamer of a child not being able to see past her own fantastic notions. She was simple too innocent to even be in a Drow city.

Viconia dismissed the thoughts and glanced at her bed. It would be a cold night today...