"It's so hot up here," Imoen sighed as she and Viconia were standing on the balcony overlooking the city. The lava seemed even thicker today, as it poured from a steep fall into the lava-streams below on the other side of the city. As usual, the cavern was bathed in the glowing light of the molten rock.

"Even hotter than inside," Viconia nodded and leaned on the railing.

"Wanna do something?"

"Like what?"

"Shopping?"

"Everything's rationed," Viconia replied. "The market-place is dull."

"Feed the spiders?"

"Nah," Viconia replied. "No giant beetles. Khittix ate all of them."

"Game, then?" Imoen replied cheerfully. "How about 'pin the tail'?"

"No, no, no," Viconia returned sharply. "I ended up having to heal my own arse last time, remember?"

"Sorry about that," Imoen pouted.

"Who uses a dagger to play 'pin the tail' anyway?!"

"Still mad at me?"

"Nah."

"Good," Imoen giggled and laid her head on Viconia's shoulder. "Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored..."

"I know a hint when I hear one," Viconia sighed. "Shall we go inside? Perhaps Laska has come back home."

Imoen nodded and let Viconia lead her inside. After the sliding glass door was opened, they noticed Jan and Korgan were still sprawled over the couch, in exactly the same position as they were every day. Jan was bouncing a turnip against the wall over and over again, while Korgan lay mumbling to himself until he noticed the other two.

"OY!" Korgan roared. "When we be leavin' this soddin' Drow city-shite, already?!"

"It's a city-state Korgan," Viconia said.

"State, Shite, it be all the same with you Drow," Korgan snarled. "Gimme ta drips, gimme the clammy cold, give me the hard rock!" Korgan snarled. "But I be hatin' these bloody 'eats! I be hatin' these bloody soft pillows, and I really wanna be slaughtering every bloody neighbor I can find!"

"Oh, crap," Imoen sighed. "The air-cooler has gone again. I'd better re-enchant it." she added, withdrew from Viconia and headed towards a large rock in the middle of the room. The normally frosty and cool rock was now warm to the touch.

"I better be 'eadin' to the kitchen," Korgan snapped.

"Oh, no you don't!" Viconia added quickly. "I don't want to find any more beard-hairs in my soup!"

"Och, it be a little extra flavoring to the Soup du Jour! HAR HAR!" Korgan laughed.

"Disgusting little man," Viconia spat. "Besides, Laska's cooking today and she'll kick you out of the kitchen before you can say 'Oy, where be me beer?'."

"It's working again!" Imoen giggled as the rock started to hum. It started to spread cold air through the room as soon as Imoen cast her spells. The pink-haired mage spent some time sitting in front of the rock with her eyes closed, simply letting the cold air blow through her hair.

"Och, that be better," Korgan nodded.

The sound of a key sliding into the lock of the front door, alerted everyone in the room to Laska's imminent arrival.

"'Ello, 'ello, 'ello," Laska smiled when she entered the room carrying no less than two full grocery bags. "Chef has arrived with all kinds of fresh food goodness!"

"Is... is that freshly baked bread?" Viconia said as the smell of the good food tickled her nostrils.

"Not only that," Laska grinned, "but also fresh fruit and vegetables. I'm going to fix you all one mean salad and some nice fruit-drinks. Sorry, Korgan, no meat today."

"OCH! YE USELESS BLOODY ELF!!!! A LEAF-EATIN' RABBIT IS ALL YE BE! I BE WANTIN' RED MEAT, DAMN YE!" Korgan roared and stomped off, slamming the door to his room behind him.

"Och," Laska blinked.

"Can you blame him?" Viconia asked. "Two months in this tepid house with the tepid air and that tepid wallpaper will send anyone round the twist."

"Yeah," Imoen sighed. "I'm bored."

"Okay, then check this out!" Laska grinned and fished a large fruit from her bag.

"A PINE-APPLE!" Imoen wailed in sheer happiness.

"Two pine-apples," Laska chuckled. "If you wonder where I got all this stuff, well, let's just say it's nice to know the spider in the middle of web of all the smuggling operations in this city."

"I see," Viconia asked. "And how much did she charge for that?"

"Nothing," Laska smiled. "But she'll be coming over for dinner today."

"Again?!" Imoen sighed. "I'm so tired of having to hide who we really are. We could be free at dinner and be together... but now Phaere's coming over every day and we have to keep a lid on everything."

"It's only dinner," Laska said. "Where is everybody, by the way?"

"Minsc is sleeping in his room, Korgan just stormed off, Keldorn is scoping out city gates like he does every day and Dynaheir, well, she's..."

"Over at the pleasure chambers," Laska snickered. "She's turning into a resident."

"Reminds of my auntie Nell," Jan said. "She became a resident. Well, it was at a university, not a pleasure chamber. Actually, that's not entirely much of a difference, according to my cousin Flounder."

"Who calls his own child Flounder?" Imoen asked.

"Hey, hey, we were talking about Nell. I'll tell you about my cousins Flounder, Bluto, Otter, D-Day, Pinto and Boon and the antics of Turnip House later."

"Is this the story about the horse getting that heart-attack?" Laska asked.

"No, though that is a fine one as well," Jan smiled. "No, I'm talking about my auntie Nell getting a residency at the local university. She's a professor on the subject of Turnip Farmers and Subterranean Caverns Under Malnourished Sheeping Fields. A fascinating subject, for certain. Anyway, she was offered a residency at I.O.U. University, which was good because the university had some outstanding gambling debts with her. Unfortunately for her, the uni found out she got her diploma from a packet of cereals. Now, this was no problem for her, seeing she's been raising turnips in her damp basement all her life, but you know how those institutions are : all paper, no fun."

"So how is this story funny?" Imoen asked.

"Not funny on it's own, but you should have seen the ruckus when cousin Flounder and his friends from Turnip House sabotaged the float-parade and ran over auntie Nell twice with a giant turnip shaped like a, well, a giant thingy... College humor, you see?"

"Quite," Laska said. "Oh, well, I better get out food on the table." That said, Laska headed towards the kitchen. Leaving the door open, Imoen could see Laska tying her braid into a knot after putting on her apron, something she had adopted after Imoen had complained about finding a long dark hair in her soup a year ago. Of course, Imoen never had told Laska that she was just kidding, and by now that incident happened too long ago to ever correct it.

It didn't take Laska long to take the knife to deftly start the chopping of vegetables. "All the ladies! Independent!" Laska sang cheerfully while she worked.

Viconia reflected for a moment on how much Laska had become herself again over the past few months. Seeing Laska stabilizing, then getting better was more than a great relief to Imoen.

After some consideration over the past month, Viconia had come to the conclusion that Laska was indeed getting better, but was in no way out of the woods. Perhaps this was just the silence for the storm. Laska hadn't been in combat for over two months now, aside from the occasional spar. But not the cold, to-the-death-them-or-us combats that Laska had always thrived on. Essentially, Laska had been going Cold Turkey, with all the classic withdrawal symptoms in the first two weeks.

Viconia had come to the conclusions that Bhaalspawn were lured in a trap of their own making : an addiction to murder. Like a drug, the euphoria that a Bhaalspawn must feel when slaying a victim, spurred him or her on to kill more and more and even more until the person is gone and only the rage remains. Laska's elven spirit had always protected her from excesses, but now that that was gone, abstinence was the only defense.

And try as she might, Viconia could not imagine Laska giving up violence. This calmth only came about because there was nothing to kill, nothing to fight. But she knew that as soon as the city was reopened, Laska would fall back into the self-destructive spiral. The only thing that saved her friend's sanity were Phaere's affections. The two had become close over the past two months and were growing closer still. The two were seeing each other enough to become suspicious if Phaere had still been part of House Despana.

Laska's new tattoo, a wavy symbol meaning 'Victory' in the Drow language and 'Rebirth' in the Elven language, had been tattooed on the left side of her neck after winning Phaere's tournament. Phaere was certainly giving that tattoo a lot of attention with her lips.

"What are you thinking about, Vic?" Imoen asked, interrupting Viconia's train of thoughts.

"Hm? Oh, just thinking about Laska."

"Yeah, she's really gotten better, hasn't she?" Imoen smiled. "I was so worried about her."

Viconia didn't have the heart to tell her Laska would fall back to her insane state within a minute of killing an enemy. Right now, she seemed herself, but beneath the surface her anger was still raging like a violent storm. In a way she was like an alcoholic who would fall back to the habit after slipping up only once, even though comparing Laska to an alcoholic would be a crooked thing to do.

Viconia's train of thought was interrupted when a bouncing turnip hit her square on the nose. As the Drow cursed violently while rubbing her nose, the turnip flew out the window, over the balcony and over the railing.

"Oh, nice going, Vicky," Jan huffed. "Blocking my bounce with your big white lumberjack-head! Now I gotta go fish my turnip out of the lava again! Do you know how long it takes to chisel out a turnip when the lava hardens?"

"I'll throw you out after your turnip! Would that save you some time?!" Viconia snarled.

"I get the hint, I get the hint, sheesh, everyone's a critic," Jan said and left through the back door.

A slam of the door broke Viconia's concentration on her violent impulses. In ran a very nervous Keldorn, who kept the door close with his body as soon as he slammed it shut.

"Keldorn!" sounded a sultry voice from the other side of the door. "Let me in, my precious male! Don't play hard to get."

"Help me!" Keldorn grimaced.

"What's the problem?" Imoen asked.

"It's miss Velvyrr from next door!" Keldorn gulped. "She wants to have sex with me!"

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so'? I'm married!"

"She isn't here, is she? Go for it," Viconia said. "That's the game that's being played here. Just have sex with her and she'll lose interest."

"I can't just... Wait, what do you mean she'll 'lose interest'?" Keldorn asked suspiciously.

"Do it over there on the table," Viconia ignored Keldorn's stare and Imoen's giggled. "Give us something interesting to watch. I promise I'll go easy on you when I grade your performance."

"You Drow are perverse!"

"Tell me something I don't know," Viconia chuckled. "Any luck at the gate?"

"No, nothing," Keldorn sighed. "It's more tightly closed than a miser's coin purse. Diligently guarded."

"It's the same every day and you still go," Imoen said.

"What else do you expect me to do?" Keldorn replied. "I still say we should explore the option of the city's smuggling routes."

"Phaere'd know about it if we even inquired. And do you really think she'd let us go?" Viconia replied.

"Yeah," Imoen said. "We can't get out that way without Phaere knowing about it."

The sound of a flowerpot crashing to the ground, followed by a rather explicit Drow curse followed.

"Oh, Torm's Beard," Keldorn hissed. "She's coming in through the window!"

"Hide in Laska's bedroom!" Imoen said. "We'll cover for you!"

Keldorn nodded and ran away, into Laska's room.

"Shall we give him away?" Viconia winked once the room was clear.

"Nah," Imoen giggled. "He's suffered enough."

At that moment, miss Velvyrr, a middle-aged, gorgeous Drow female entered. "My dear females," she purred like a kitten. "Would you direct me to my victim, please?"

"Over there," Viconia pointed to the opposite room from Laska's bedroom. Velvyrr wouldn't be told twice and headed towards the door. She flipped her hair and slipped into the darkness, closing the door behind her.

"Doesn't that room belong to..."

"Let him have his 10 minutes of fame..."

As if on cue, a knock on the door followed. Viconia threw up her hands in the hair, wondering if this house had suddenly turned into a busy crossroads. However, before Viconia could open the door, she heard a key turning around in the lock. When the door opened, Phaere was on the other side. The young Drow quickly replaced the key behind the flowerpot and stepped inside.

"You hid the key behind a flowerpot?" Viconia asked Imoen.

Imoen shrugged. "It's not problem. An extra key is always handy if you've forgotten yours. Besides, I've cast a spell on it : if anyone besides us or Phaere touches it, it'll explode."

"Is Laska in?" Phaere grinned. "I suppose I'm a little early for dinner."

Imoen and Viconia noticed that Phaere was wearing her casual attire again. Instead of her bulky decorative platemail and her boots, she was wearing a snug-fitting, suede, stylish set of trousers. On her upper torso, she worse a loose-fitting spidersilk tank-top which left her shoulders and midriff bare. To finish the picture, Phaere was wearing a pair of open-top sandals. Viconia gathered that, seeing Phaere had become so much looser, Laska had somewhat rubbed off on Phaere.

"She's in the kitchen," Imoen smiled. "Great job on getting that pine-apple, by the way."

"I bought a whole case of exotic fruits from a smuggler," Phaere smiled. "I saved most for drinks at the Spire, but Laska insisted on getting first choice from the case."

"Well, hello there," Laska greeted Phaere as she entered the kitchen. Immediately, Phaere wrapped her arms around Laska and treated her to a rather intense kiss.

When they finally broke the kiss, Phaere let her finger slide over Laska's 'Kiss the Chef'-apron. "Cute," Phaere concluded.

"Taste," Laska demanded and help up a spoon filled with a creamy substance. "I already put pine-apple, kiwi and some fruit juices in."

Phaere complied and tasted the sweet cream, carefully at first, only taking a small bit from the spoon. Her eyes grew wide for a moment as she let the cream swirl in her mouth. Then, like a hungry frog, she launched herself onto the spoon and gobbled up the cream.

"Yum," was Phaere's only reply.

"It's good to know what your money paid for, right?" Laska chuckled, especially when she saw a little bit of cream still on Phaere's nose. She leaned over and kissed it off. "Now, I like that bit of extra flavor."

"I just bet," Phaere replied and sat herself down on the counter while Laska worked.

"How's business?" Laska asked.

"Lousy," Phaere said. "But not completely disastrous. Although I sell all the food I smuggle in far below stock-prices."

"Phaere not making a profit?" Laska smirked. "Call the gods, a miracle has happened."

"Sure, laugh it up," Phaere grinned. "But sometimes it's better to make a friend than to make a profit... but only when that friend can make you even bigger profit later on. Ardulace's rationing scheme favors the noble houses above the commoners, leaving them to starve. By selling them cheap food, you could say I'm consolidating my power-base."

"And on that high note, it's time for you to leave the kitchen," Laska said. "I work best without an audience," she added while picking up Phaere around the waist and lifting her to the ground. She gently pushed Phaere towards the door with a none-too-subtle slap on her shapely behind.

"You do realize I could have you killed for that?" Phaere winked.

"Then who'll make the cream?" Laska smirked.

About an hour later, everybody except Minsc was gathered around the dinner-table. Fresh bread, fruits, drinks, salads, cream-topping, pudding and pine-apple slices were being rapidly devoured. To keep the food from spoiling, Imoen had placed smaller versions of her magical cooling rocks on the table.

"So, while I was hiding under Laska's bed, I found this weird leather thing," Keldorn spoke.

"Oh?" Laska raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Keldorn said. "I think it's some kind of bird cage made from small leather straps and buckles. I didn't look strong enough to hold a bird, though. It was rather flimsy."

"You have it here?" Phaere asked Laska. "I was looking all over for that at home."

"I didn't know until now," Laska replied.

"I'm afraid your bird escaped, Phaere," Keldorn said. "I found no sign of it in Laska's room."

"How big was this 'birdcage', Keldorn?" Laska grinned.

"Oh, about the size of Phaere's... torso," Keldorn said, finally realizing what this bird cage was. "I, um," he grew bright red, "well, I'm, I'm going to wash up again now."

As Keldorn left hurriedly, and the others continued eating, the door to Minsc's room suddenly opened with a slight creak. Out came miss Velvyrr, her hair disheveled and her clothes ruffled, staggering as she headed towards the front door with a big fat happy grin on her face.

Next to follow out was Minsc, wearing a robe and looking generally very confused.

"Boo?" he asked the hamster he cradled in his hands. "What just happened?"

Boo only replied with a slight giggle.