A swift kick against the door of the slaver-ship opened the lock and caused the door to violently fly open. Oddly enough, at least according to Laska, the crash from the opening of the door was followed by a stifled yell and several loud clanking sounds. Stepping out into the open revealed the reason, for the first thing she saw was the drydocked boat's guard lying unconscious at the bottom of a ten foot high staircase.

"Ermmm, sorry!" Laska yelled sheepishly. Then Laska noticed it was still raining, and that, in fact, the intensity of the rain had even doubled. She could barely see twelve foot in front of her due to the mist and falling water.

"Well," Laska said, "it's only a short dash to the Copper Coronet..."

"We'd be completely soaked when we get there," Keldorn added.

"Ach!" Korgan yelled. "I will nay be runnin' aroun' in that bloody rain! It be ruinin' me grimy complexion! Can we nay wait this out?!"

"Sorry, my friend," Keldorn said. "But autumn-rains like these can last for weeks on end..."

"Ach, blasted bloody," Korgan cursed. "Can ye two morons nay order yer bloody gods to make this bleedin' rain stop?"

"It doesn't quite work that way, Korgan," Keldorn shook his head.

"Shar does not control the weather," Viconia said. "Besides that, you could definitely use a bath or a good shower, in this case."

"I 'ate baths, and I be 'atin' showers even more!" Korgan snarled.

"Yes," Viconia grinned. "I can smell that from here."

"Oy!" Korgan retorted. "This be a manly smell!"

"Trust me," Viconia chuckled, "if Drow males smelled like you do now, our race would have died out in less than two generations..."

"Okay, cram it you two," Laska said. "I need a drink and I need it now, so either we make a wild dash through the rain and hope we don't run off a cliff or we go back through the sewers and get there completely dry!"

"See, completely dry!" Laska said as she and her friends emerged from the secret entrance to the Copper Coronet. From the sounds in the room next door, it seemed their other friends Minsc and Jan had already arrived with the children and had started the celebration. A quick step into the main room revealed many happy children, some being hugged by their formerly enslaved parents, while others were feasting away at the roasting meat in the center of the room. Musicians were playing merry tunes, while the ex-slaves were dancing, feasting, talking and otherwise enjoying life again. Jan was sitting in the corner, telling stories to several wide-eyed children, while Minsc was busy dancing with a gnomish lady.

"Okee-dokee!" Laska yelled. "Where are the drinks!?"

Immediately, Hendak emerged from the crowd wearing a smile from ear to ear crossing his face. "We thank you all! We owe you are freedom and our lives," Hendak said in his heavily accented voice. "Please, accept this reward," he said and handed Laska a sword and some coins. "and please enjoy the festivities!"

"You know," Keldorn told the tattooed elf, who was wolfing down yet another leg of lamb with amazing speed, "just because it's an 'all-you-can-eat'-buffet, doesn't mean that you should feel obligated to eat yourself sick."

"Hey," Laska replied with her mouth full, "adventuring can work up quite the appetite, and besides, I haven't eaten anything since this morning..."

Keldorn sighed and looked around. The festivities seemed to be dying down and most of the former slaves had gone to bed already. He and his friends had taken a large round table and were currently feasting on their evening meal. As usual, this group was lacking any tablemanners whatsoever, with the notable exception of the Drow sitting next to him.

"You know," Jan said, "I had promised you that tale about my uncle Eastwood Jansen."

Keldorn groaned slightly and shook his head.

"You see, Uncle Eastwood Jansen was an ace-cattle wrangler on the Cormyrian planes, just west of the city. Fastest shot in the west, they used to call him, and his two miniature crossbows hanging from the sides of his belt were used frequently. But unlike the other wranglers, who just wrangled cows like the amateurs they were, uncle Eastwood wrangled a thousand-head herd of Cormyrian Jumping Turnips. Luckily, he was good with a lasso, since those Turnips tend to jump around and escape a lot. One day, he came home after a long day of wrangling, only to find that his little frontier-town had been taken over by a group of desperado's known as the Waltons, a horrible dysfunctional family of cutt-throats, murderers, thieves and life-insurance salesmen... Some blame the parents, you see. So, he let his Jumping Turnips stampede, and they ended up crushing the lovely frontier town under the purple menace. Afterwards, he drew his trusty crossbows and proceeded to mow down all the surviving Waltons with fervent glee. When he had the last Walton, Pa Walton himself cornered on what used to be mainstreet, he rasped in his low and threatening voice, 'Do you feel lucky, punk? Well, do you?'. Apparently, Pa Walton did, since he was buried with three nostrils. And all the surviving townmen (both of them) rejoiced at his great deeds..."

"Sounds like quite a hero," Laska said, while munching on another piece of roasted lamb.

"Yeah, but unfortunately, he died a few days later..." Jan added.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Keldorn said, "but how did he die?"

"Griffin sat on him..." Jan said. "A very near-sighted griffin..."

"You seem preoccupied, Keldorn," he suddenly heard Viconia say from next of him.

"Yes, well," Keldorn said. "I've been thinking upon your worship of Shar ever since you mentioned her again at the slaver-compound."

"Oh?" Viconia said. "How so?"

"Might I," Keldorn asked carefully and scraped his throat, "be direct?"

"Always," Viconia chuckled. "This should be interesting..."

"I consider Shar to be a perverse travesty, Viconia," Keldorn stated bluntly, "Her cult is seething with evil and bitter yield. She offers a coven for the morose and pathetic."

"My, my, you certainly are direct," Viconia grinned, "but allow me to counter your argument. My Mistress of the Gray Wastes is not deserving of her reputation, suliss. There are no hatreds too petty, Keldorn, as to compel forgiveness, don't you agree? All pains are hidden after all..."

"True," Keldorn said. "Neverending hatred is not a desirable thing, or there would be constant warfare between everyone. But forgiveness comes from the heart, and both sides should be able to forgive, or the hatred will last forever."

"Why are you telling me this, Keldorn?" Viconia asked.

"Because you are not like any Sharran I have ever met or fought," Keldorn said. "Sharrans seek to perpetuate hatreds and work constantly to spread evil, disorder, chaos and hate. You do not... You work actively with benevolent people like us, you participate in our good deeds, something a true Sharran would never do."

"Are you suggesting..." Viconia said, her mood darkened.

"If you truly seek peace and a lasting home, then your worship of Shar is in your way," Keldorn said, pressing the issue, "and you should renounce her."

With an angry snarl, Viconia rose from her seat. "HYPOCRITE!" the enraged Drow shouted. "He who preaches loyalty and duty to the gods! You expect me to give up MY FAITH?! Oh, I could just imagine your reaction if I asked you to do the same! Would you EVEN consider giving up worship of Torm for only a moment?! I think not!"

Viconia lowered her voice in a menacing tone. "Do you expect me to treat the pantheons like a market-place, to simply pick the faith which attracts me the most and then trade it in for another if it doesn't completely suits me?! You ask me to give up the only boon I have received on the surface! I am grateful to Shar for the powers he had given me and I WILL NOT give them up!"

"But do you truly have faith in Shar, like you claim," Keldorn added. "Or are you simply worshipping her out of gratitude?"

Viconia was shaking with anger while she stared at the aged Inquisitor a seemingly long time. Then, finally, she spoke. "I will not even dignify that with an answer!", she said, shoved the chair backwards and headed to the stairs leading to the guestrooms.

"Aye," Korgan laughed. "That be a fine show. Will there be one every other hour? HAR HAR!"

Keldorn paid him no mind and watched Viconia disappear up the stairs. 'There', he thought, 'I have said what had to be said...'... But he hoped he had not misjudged the situation and driven her away permanently. But if he had read the Drow correctly, she would simply need some time to think...

Suddenly, however, a cloaked woman rose from her table and slowly walked over to their table. Keldorn couldn't put a finger on it, but there was something not right about that person. The woman, a young girl by the likes of it, stopped short next to Keldorn, where Viconia had sat and leaned forward to face Laska.

"Greetings," the female spoke in a low tone of voice, and made no effort to remove her hood, "might I have a word away from the ears of others? I would impart a fine bit of business your way."

"Can't talk," Laska said and took another bite, "eating..."

"Now 'old on, lassie!" Korgan said. "What be this business, and will there be a reward?"

"Oh, there is profit, to be sure," the woman said. "There are also answers, but they shall come from my mistress. She would have words with you."

"Would she now?" Jan said. "Now, I've always wondered why people send other people to tell even more other people their problems? Hmm, might be a good thing though, since the unemployment-rate would shoot through the roof if those people dealt with their own problems in their own way in their own time with their own assets..."

"She is worthy of your trust, do not concern yourself diminutive one," the female added. "If you feel worthy of it, come to the Graveyard District in the near future and she will speak her offer. Make your visit after the sky is darkened; she will not be there before then."

"Boo wants to know who you are, strange, pretty lady," Minsc broke in.

"I am Valen," she said, "though my name is not important... Go see my mistress..." That said, the female straitened her hood and stepped outside into the rain.

"Well," Laska said, while taking yet another bite, "it seems we've got a new job! And we didn't even have look for it..."

"Ye could 'ave asked the bugger ta come 'ere, doncha know?" Korgan said angrily. "Now we 'ave to go out in the bloody rain."

"Let's finish up here and go," Laska said. "I will tell and collect Viconia later. Don't worry, Keldorn she'll come around. She'll be bloody angry, but she'll come around..."

Laska's stomach groaned in protest as the party set foot on the darkened Graveyard. Unlike the daytime, the graveyard was very, very, very creepy during the night. The wind howled through the branches of dead trees, and the groans of the wind roared past the stone crypts. The moon shot its rays of light upon the headstones of persons dead for hundreds of years. The rain, the mist and the lightning, inspired even more eerie spectacles.

"Boo is shivering from fear," Minsc said. "Plus, Boo is soaking wet."

"Aye, I be reasonably dry," Korgan said, and he had picked up a piece of sheetmetal which he held over his head like an umbrella.

"Yep," Jan chuckled. "and you'll be reasonably dead when the lightning comes here."

"Ach, I might be dead, but I would 'ave died dry... HAR, HAR!" Korgan laughed.

"Uuuuuuuuhhhhh," Laska groaned as another sting of pain crossed her aching belly. "I should have listened to you Keldorn. I shouldn't have ended the evening with a pan of soup, like you told me..."

Keldorn said nothing, but simply nodded. He was too preoccupied with Viconia, who hadn't spoken a word to anyone ever since the incident at the table.

"See anyone?" Jan said, but suddenly he head a short hiss for a doorway. Immediately, weapons were raised.

"So, you're finally here," a childlike female voice sounded from the doorway. "Do you know how long I've been standing here?! It's raining, you know?"

"Trust me," Korgan said. "We be knowin'"

"Yes, I can tell by looking at the sheetmetal," the girl said. "I am Bodhi, and I greet you warmly..."

"So you're the mystery-mistress, then?" Jan asked. "Afraid of a little rain?"

"Hardly," the girl sing-songed and stepped into full view. She was an extra-ordinary paleskinned elven female, with jet-black hair and eyes like black coals. She wore a leather outfit which let VERY little to the imagination.

"Beware, Laska!" Keldorn said. "I sense intense evil from this creature...Do not parley with her... it will lead only to ill! I believe she is undead..."

"Trust me," Laska groaned as she felt another batch of nausea flare up, "I know..."

"Shut the hell, up!" Bodhi suddenly snapped. "I have a deal for you and I expect you to listen! I will outline what I intend. You are...employed of course, and do errands occasionally. No doubt you have questioned the intent of your employer on occasion? If you haven't, then you should. You work for the Shadow Thieves, on the pretense they will help locate your missing companion, Imoen, but I would offer you an alternative. I will help you find your friend for...oh... 15,000 gold? It is a sizeable amount less than the Shadow Thieves have asked."

"Sounds bloody good ta me!" Korgan said. "We'd be 'avin' more golders left to buy other stuff!"

"Such an offer from this woman sends chills up and down my spine like angry weasels... Even Boo is confident, Laska, but neither of us would like to deal with this woman," Minsc said.

"I must decline," Laska burped. "You are undead..."

"Is that a problem?" Bodhi asked and stepped a little closer, wearing a sly, seductive grin.

"You... you," Laska said as the nausea intensified even more, "you really shouldn't stand so close to me..."

Bodhi grinned ever more and took another step closer. Suddenly, Laska's eyes bulged as her dinner returned towards the entrance. A deafening, high-pitched disgusted shriek followed by a crypt slamming shut resounded through the entire Graveyard.

"Aye," Korgan laughed. "That be screwin' up that particular deal..."

"Yep," Jan added. "And, geez, what an amount! Where did she put it all? That poor vampire was completely covered with that muck..."

"Stupid vampire!" a partially recovered Laska yelled to a closed crypt. "Now I'm hungry again!"

Keldorn, who made every effort humanly possible not to throw a fit of laughter, suggested the wet party should head to his estate for warmth and luxury rooms. The party complied, and most ran giggling and laughing through the rain towards the Government District, while a silent Viconia trailed behind...