How much is that human in the window?
The one with the waggly legs.
How much is that human in the window?
Oh, I do hope he is for sale!

    ---Popular Drow children's song.

The multi-tentacled monster rained the proverbial fire, death and destruction onto all in sight. Although it was all horribly cliché, it was also quite effective.

The beholder-like being spew fire from the ends of the ten tentacles flailing about its central eye-less orb. Its mouth had been stretched open and was held in place by hooks, giving it a permanent unnerving chatter. And, it shrieked every time before it shot a column of flame into a direction of a foe.

The Abyssal creature was frightfully efficient. Several Drow corpses lied smoldering on the ground, literally fried to a crisp, filling air in the narrow tunnel with the sickening smell of burnt flesh.

"Korgan, flank it!" Laska shouted out while two young Drow soldiers, overconfident as ever, stormed the creature.

"What be ye thinkin' I be tryin' ta do, ye bloody fool!" Korgan snarled and took the change. He grabbed one of the flailing tentacles and sliced it off with one violent hew of his axe. The creature shrieked in pain. And, in reaction to that pain, fired off several columns of flame random, sadly frying the two young soldiers in a matter of seconds.

"OY!" Korgan shouted. "We be runnin' outta cannonfodder 'ere! And we only chopped off two tents!"

"Korgan!" Laska motioned to Korgan's battlegroup. "Fall back to the mantlecaves and circle around. We'll lure it back to the cul-de-sac in the second tunnel and drive it into a corner. We'll kill it there!"

"Rraargh, but I wanna be killin' it now!" Korgan roared, not noticing another one of his battlegroup was fried by an incoming fireball.

"DO IT NOW!" Laska snarled. While the second group retreated, Laska motioned the remainder of her own battlegroup to slowly fall back and let her lure the creature away. The battle had actually started in the second tunnel, and the creature led them to this tunnel outside the mantlecaves, where it had surprised them and killed several young soldiers in an ambush.

Laska stole a look at the soldiers she had been assigned : they were kids. Males and females that were younger than she was. They didn't want to be soldiers, most didn't even want to be there, but where put in that position by fate... Fate, in this case, simply being another name for Ardulace. But Laska decided there'd be no more deaths today.

She took a dagger from her belt, aimed and threw it at the creature with deadly precision. The creature howled in pain, and seemed to be giving Laska its full attention. The elf sprinted out of the cavern, following her battlegroup. The creature was in hot pursuit. Very hot pursuit, seeing it was firing bolts of fire at the running elf as it was led back to the cul-de-sac.

After the battlegroup had taken up defensive positions, Laska led the creature into the cul-de-sac. Upon reaching the wall, Laska increased speed and actually stepped onto it, using her momentum to jump from it and somersault over the demonic tentacled beast, only missing it by a hair. She twisted and twirled into the air until she landed on her feet.

Unfortunately for her, she had not noticed the charred remains of one the soldiers that fell during the first encounter of the creature. She landed on it with one foot, causing it to slide away so that Laska lost her footing. With a brief clang of chain-mail on stone, Laska found herself sitting on the floor.

The creature shrieked, and Laska knew it was going to fire a flame bolt at her. With no time to lose, she dropped her swords and quickly erected the fallen soldier's shield just before the fire would kill her.

She knelt and held onto the shield for dear life. The fire slammed into shield, the very force of the blow almost knocking her off her feet. The heavy metal shield did its job, though, and protected her from the flame. However, the air around her was getting hotter and hotter, and flames licked at her skin. It was fast getting difficult to breathe.

Laska felt the shield heating up as well. The multi-layered shield would not be able to withstand this blast much longer. She knew these blasts usually lasted no longer than 10 seconds or so... but right then that might as well have been a lifetime. Then finally, finally, the terror of flame stopped.

"DIE, YE BASTARD!" sounded as the angry dwarf and his battlegroup stormed past. The telltale whoosh of crossbow bolts signified that her own battleground had come to action as well. The creature screamed and screamed as it rained blow after blow at it. Not so much later, the creature landed on the ground with a loud splat.

Cheers echoed in the tunnel, as soldier proclaimed themselves to be the greatest. Laska just dropped the shield. The shield's front was smoldering and red. But the drow craftsmanship had held.

"Well, that was that," the female Drow drill-sergeant, the only real warrior besides Laska and Korgan, said. "ALRIGHT MUTANTS! GET YOUR COLLECTIVE BUTTS TOGETHER AND GET YOUR ASSES BACK TO THE CITY. LEAVE THE BODIES OF THE WEAK FOR THE CARRION-EATERS."

"Nice job, Laska," the sergeant spoke. "Ardulace wasn't lying about your abilities."

"Not so nice for the kids that didn't make it," Laska said. Around her, the soldiers were starting to treat each other's wounds. Some had terrible burns.

"Blame the elves, not me," the sergeant said, eyes downcast. "Those foul surface-elves summoned this creature to hound us in our own mantle-caves! Is there no end to their depravity?"

Laska raised an eyebrow. "Come again? Elves summoned it?"

"It's an abyssal creature. These can only be summoned. Ergo, the elves did it."

"Interesting conclusion."

"Why?"

"Well, elves usually summon different kind of creatures to help them. Giant birds, unicorns, pixies, catshees, animals... But never this," Laska pointed to the spattered beholder-kin, "abomination."

"And how would you know?!" the sergeant challenged. "You look barely out of your diapers!"

"I've... fought elves," Laska lied. "It's not their style."

"Maybe they're desperate," the sergeant nodded. "Intel reports they haven't had reinforcements for over a month now. We don't know why Suldenesselar hasn't sent any. Maybe it's because we killed their best and the rest now cowers for our might in their city."

"I doubt that," Laska said.

"Mind you," the sergeant said. "They have a new leader, a general. A moon-elf. She came in suddenly with a lot of powerful mages in tow. My lieutenant at the time thought our squad could take her. She was standing there, at the entrance, all by herself. We taunted and we spat in her direction, but she just stood there with her swords drawn."

"What happened?" Laska asked.

"We figured that if she wanted to die, we would oblidge her... but the lieutenant was the first to die," she said. "We didn't even saw the strike that lopped his head off. But then she just carved through our ranks, firing off spells of destructing while she did. She fought like a demon. We were slaughtered before we even knew what happened."

"How did you survive? Did you fight her?"

"Pure luck," she said. "I hesitated before striking, and she missed me. Um, well," she said, raising her chainshirt to reveal a still-healing scar slashed across her stomach, "not entirely. I fell backward into a pool of blood, surrounded by severed limbs. In any case, I played for dead while she simply stood there. I think she let me go, though."

"Why do you think that?" Laska said. "She might have forgotten about you."

"Because she winked at me just before leaving the cave to the surface."

"So basically, she was saying 'this is me, this is what I can do, now go tell the others to fear me'?" Laska grinned.

"Oh, yes," the sergeant said. "If it wasn't a sin in the eyes of Lolth, I would respect her."

"Honey, I'm home!" Laska said as she entered her house. There, at the table, Phaere, in her casual wear, was still balancing her books.

"Hm," Phaere said. "Just a second," she asked and continued writing from a moment. After mumbling a few numbers, she wrote down the total. Then, she closed the book and looked up. "You were saying?"

"How nice of you to take an interest," Laska smirked.

"How nice of you to disturb my calculations," Phaere smiled back. She stood up and wrapped her arms around Laska, pressing her lips on hers to invite her for a sensual kiss.

When the two finally broke the kiss, Laska was the first to speak. "Gonna take a bath."

"Mind if I join you?" Phaere grimaced when she noticed her hands and forearms were covered in blood and grime.

The two elves relaxed in the hot water of the large bathtub. The perfumed water tickled their nostrils as they enjoyed the feel of each other's closeness in the water. Phaere sat in the water, while Laska lay with her back into her, resting her head on Phaere's chest.

"Clean yet?" Phaere smiled as she rubbed a piece of lufah over Laska's body.

"I'm feeling dirtier by the second," Laska grinned and kissed Phaere's knee.

"Your reward for a tough day of monster-hunting," Phaere chuckled while running a comb through Laska's hair to get the tangles out.

"Yeah," Laska grew quiet. "I was wondering about that."

"About what?" Phaere asked.

"They said the elves had summoned that creature, but I know for a fact they would never resort to using those creatures. But then where..."

"It's one of Ardulace's creatures," Phaere broke in. There was no humor in her voice.

"What?!" Laska replied, and almost sat up. Before that happened, Phaere stopped her by laying a hand on her chest.

"The creature you described earlier," Phaere said while continuing to rub the lufah over Laska's skin. "It's a little know servant of Lolth that can be summoned by only the highest ranked priestesses. It's truly a last resort, since this creature is molded out of pure chaos. It'll attack anybody it sees relentlessly."

"By why did Ardulace summon it?" Laska asked. "If she had any sense at all, she would send it at the elves, not her own people."

"It's her way of keeping morale," Phaere sighed. "By having those creatures wipe out a squad of inexperienced soldiers, she can blame the surface elves for summoning the creatures and keep her soldiers and people motivated to support her cause. The news-criers are probably spreading the news of this attack all over Ust Natha as we speak."

"That bitch," Laska whispered. "They were only children."

"She's been doing this a long time," Phaere sighed. "What a waste... All Ardulace has ever done has resulted in waste. My mother is a complete and utter failure at everything she does. My grandmother was the best matron mother our city ever had. She had a hands-on-approach, ruthless and efficient, but she knew that happy people are productive people. She brought our city on the map, expanded trade and kept our people fed."

"Sounds like you respected her," Laska said. "Was she a doting grandmother, then?" she chuckled.

"Shush, you," Phaere grinned and smacked Laska with the lufah. "For your information, yes. She kept bouncing me on my knee until I was four... and slipped me sweets when no one was looking. She spent more time with me during my first four years than Ardulace did in my entire life. She would have been alive to this very day if she hadn't decided on joining the mission to free Vilaya from its curse. If you ask me, she wanted to get away from her bratty useless daughter Ardulace bouncing around the house for a bit. I was fifty at the time, a mere slip of a girl."

"I never knew my grandmother... or my mother, really. Only my dad and my sister," Laska said. "Growing up was fun, though. We always got into trouble one way or another... Even when we were trying to keep out of trouble."

"I never knew my father," Phaere said. "Ardulace had a string of lovers, so any of them could be my father. The twins never knew their father either. Speaking of Ardulace, as much as it pains me, she's asked to see us in an hour or so."

"An hour?" Laska grinned and flipped around in the water, taking Phaere a firm embrace. "Let's just lie here for a moment then. Soak..."

"Hmm..."

"Once again, you have provided this city and its people a great service by destroying one of the creatures the foul Faerie elves set upon our unsuspecting people," Ardulace held her vainglorious speech in front of a gathered group of priestesses and war-commanders at the temple of Lolth.

She was enjoying herself... That much Laska could read from her face. She, on the other hand, kept seeing the face of the young soldiers that the monster Ardulace had summoned killed without having had any chance at all. If she and Korgan had not been there, all of them would be probably be dead.

Laska no longer heard Ardulace's words. She wanted to turn into the Slayer on the spot and tear her apart with her bare claws... to relish the look of surprise in Ardulace's face when her claws would slash her in two, cut out her eyes and crush her skull within a matter of seconds...

But then she saw the face of Xare flash in front of her eyes, and she slowly calmed down again.

She felt Phaere's hand squeeze hers for a moment. "You're up," Phaere whispered under her breath, in a soft tone that only another elf in very close proximity would be able to hear.

"...Which leaves me to present to you and your group, a reward for your fine service," Ardulace bubbled on while Laska stepped onto the dais, with a grumbling Korgan in tow. "A golden medal for you both... and, you may go to the slave-pens where I have ordered several slaves to be prepared to your household."

There was a round of applause, something Ardulace immensely enjoyed. But before any more officiousness, Laska, Phaere and Korgan stood outside.

"Slaves?" Laska asked. "What am I going to do with slaves? I don't even want slaves!"

"Cheap gift," Phaere said. "So Ardulace can impress the bigwigs and still do it cheaply."

"OCH!" Korgan bellowed. "That cheap wobble-bottom pixie! That bloody bollock-brained arse-head Ardulace!"

"Keep it down!" Phaere hissed. "We're in the temple! They'll hear us!"

"I be hopin' vultures be peckin' out 'er eyes! I be hopin' her genitals be rotting away! I be hopin' she 'accidentally' falls over into a vat of acid for a bit!"

"Quiet, quiet!" Phaere hissed. "What's the matter?"

"These 'gold medals' be painted aluminium! ARGH!"

"Well, there's your slaves," the slavemaster said after he had delivered three slaves to the household. The slavemaster, an elderly male with a smoldering stogie in his mouth, said and moved to leave the house. "They're yours... But, um, we've had a bit of a shortage due to the war. Not to mention that the scary matrons had their S&M convention just now and went through a lot of my inventory. There, um, wasn't much choice... so I'll be expecting you to bring them back soon."

"Uh, thanks," Laska shifted a bit uncomfortably. "Uh," she told the slaves. "hi..."

"A bit more power, Laska," Viconia said. "You're the head of the household. Go on, check their teeth."

"I am NOT going to check their teeth," Laska hissed.

"They expect you to."

"I don't care! I'm not going to check their teeth!" Laska hissed back.

"I cannot abide this travesty," Keldorn spat. "I'll be in room..."

"Um, Laska," Imoen said. "I don't think I want slaves running around here. It's not right."

"You know, this situation kind of reminds me of my uncle Burt, the prospector," Jan bubbled. "He and his partner travelled across the plains of Mulhorand looking for gold veins to exploit on the back of a giant cat. Let's just say she was the result of my Ma's experiments with growth-hormones and leave it at that. Anyway, his choice of companion was as odd as his choice of steel : His companion was Rummy, the giant wasp. Whenever they'd find a mine, they're set up shop there. Burt would prospect and Rummy would chase away any hoodlums trying to steal their gold. Sadly, they never did find gold. Mostly because Burt chose abandoned mines to prospect in, seeing he was a bit lazy and all. Anyway, Rummy sadly lived up to his name. He spent all the money they had left on booze at the local tavern. He'd just his head into the mug, flapped his wings and went bzzzzzzzzzzzzt. So one day, my uncle had enough and told Rummy he'd leave and never return. He gave up prospecting and returned to his rabbit-farm where he died poor as a church-mouse because the giant cat ate all the rabbits. But the day after he left, Rummy, in a drunken stupor, banged his head into a rock in the mine and exposed a rich vein of gold. He's now living the high-life with loads of booze and babes."

"How dost that remind thee of this situation?" Dynaheir said.

"Dunno, just wanted to open my mouth," Jan winked.

"LOOK!" one of the slaves, a middle aged male with a sour look on his face and a weak moustache said. "This is obviously going to take a while. Oh, god, I hate incompetent slaveholders. Just get out the whip and hit me over the back with it."

"Uhhh," Laska said. "What?"

"Come on, come on, come on, come on, I haven't got all day!" the man shouted. "Come on, hit me already you spineless mollusk and get it over with! Some of us have got proper jobs, you know, not like you Drow pouncying around while screwing everything that moves."

"Uhhhh," Laska said. Viconia snickered in the back.

"Riiiight," the balding man with the present moustache said. "Obviously you're an incompetent ponce, just like the rest of all you elves. My name is Basil Faulty and I'll be your butler from now on... Oh, god, look at the place, what a sty. Have you never heard of cleaning up after yourselves?"

Suddenly, the second slave stepped forward. He was huge towering half-orc, big and muscular and with a tiny head. The only thing he was wearing was a tiny, tiny loincloth, which held a rather impressive bulge. Still, the oddest thing was that this half-orc stank of perfume and had a strange haircut. He spoke with power in his voice. "Me Grignrgh. Me Grignrgh make love well, wench. Mistress and Grignrgh go boom-boom, now?"

"Oh, he's a dumb pleasure-slave," Basil spoke. "Good for only one thing, really."

"I wonder why the Drow matrons brought him back," Viconia said, sizing him up. "He looks like a fine specimen."

"Ahum," Imoen replied.

"You'll find out," Basil snorted.

"Dynaheir, concentrate," Jan told the staring Dynaheir. "Your mouth is catching flies."

"I am Irma, your maid," the last slave said. "I'll be cleaning for you and... HEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!" she suddenly shouted at Imoen.

"What did I do? What did I do?" Imoen wailed.

"YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL WHAT YOU DID! YOU PUT THAT EMPTY PACKET ON THE TABLE. PICK IT UP PUT IT IN THE TRASH RIGHT NOW!"

"But... it's not empty..."

"NOW! NOWNOWNOWNOWNOW," she shouted. A very frightened Imoen started running around like a headless chicken picking up all piece of trash inside, headed into the kitchen and tossed it all in the bin. "Well," said Irma, "such a good maid I am."

"Grignrgh go boom-boom now?" the half-orc's organs of sight eyed the many ladies. His opaque nose quivered, while the two ivory instruments of eating protruding from his orifice of nourishment and/or sensual delights glistened in the light of the object of illumination just in front of him

"Uh, not right now, thanks," Laska said. "So, ummm, make yourselves at home, I guess."

"Oh, lovely," Basil said. "How wonderful of you to open your filthy sty to us precious slaves. We feel OH, so special now. I suppose you want me to prepare the table for your dining pleasure this evening."

"Uhm, I, well, uh," the flabbergasted Laska said.

"Well, TOUGH!" Basil replied. "I'm not here to wait on your lazy arses! I have a life, you know? One that doesn't involve hanging around with you poncying prats while you stuff your gobs with truffle-stuffed turkey all day!"

"I'm starting to see why you kept being returned to the slavepens," Jan said. "Kinda like my aunt..."

"Oh, SHUT UP, you annoying little git!" Basil replied. "I've only met you three seconds ago and already I think you're a complete dingbat."

"Hey," Laska asked. "Where's Dynaheir?"

"Hmm, and where is Grignrgh?" Viconia wondered. Suddenly, from Dynaheir's room, a loud creaking noise started, accompanied by some very, very loud screams.

"Wow, Dynaheir certainly changed, hasn't she?" Laska chuckled.

Minsc was starting to get a worried look on his face. "Um, Minsc wants to know... Is Dynaheir being hurt? Because Boo doesn't say so, but it sure sounds like it." Boo giggled a bit.

Imoen was writing in her spellbook in the comfy chair. She was utterly concentrated on the runes she was writing. Suddenly, a huge shadow fell on her from behind.

"Get outta my light," Imoen protested while still scribing. The shadow did not move, however. A sigh of frustration later, Imoen decided to look up... staring right into the eager face of the half-orc pleasure slave towering over her not inches from her own face.

"AAAAH!" Imoen cried and let her pen slip over the paper, ruining the transcription. "Oh, NO! My Death Cloud," Imoen pouted. "Now I have to start all over again!"

"Grignrgh and mistress go boom-boom now?" the half-orc asked.

"NO!" Imoen snarled. "Leave me alone."

"Okay," Grignrgh said. "Now?"

"NO!"

"Now?"

"NONONONO!"

"Now?"

"Look, I'm working here, leave me alone," Imoen replied.

"Okay," Grignrgh said and stood there for about thirty seconds. "Wait long enough. Grignrgh and mistress go boom-boom now?"

"AAAH!" Imoen took her book and ran from the chair, accidentally knocking a stack of papers from the table.

"WHAT YOU DOING, YOU BRAT! PICK THOSE UP RIGHT NOW! RIGHT NOW OR I'LL SKEWER YOU WITH A MEATPIN!"

Imoen quickly reset the stack and ran from the living room, only too...

"Oh, THAT's nice, bump into me, let the dishes fall! It's not like you actually have to do anything, don't you, you lazy bum! Oh, no, let the butler take care of it, he likes it. DOESN'T HE?!"

Imoen ran away wailing loudly while tear ran over her cheeks. She ran into her room and shut the door, an audible click of the lock following.

"Hmm, the slaves seem to be freaking out Imoen," Viconia muttered while she and Laska stood on the other side of the room, having seen only the last bit of the spectacle.

"I don't like slavery one bit," Laska said. "It's demeaning, it's immoral to take someone's freedom away. I'm gonna do it..."

Laska clapped her hands. From all corners of the room came the three slaves to gather in front of their mistress.

"BOOM-BOOM!" the half-orc announced readily.

"No, no, no, no, no, shut up and listen to me," Laska said. "Look, you're slaves and all, but, I don't approve of slavery one bit, none of us really do. So, um, I don't know how we're going to do it yet, but we'll be setting you free. I'll talk to Phaere and we'll find a way to smuggle you back to the surface from freedom."

The three slaves stood there... and blinked. Grignrgh was the first to reply.

"Mistress want go boom-boom now?" he proudly announced.

"Let me get this straight," Basil said. "You want me to give up my successful career as a professional bootlick to go back to the surface to go back to my horrible hotel with my, errrghhhh, wife."

"Well, yes?" Laska said.

"You want me to go back to my wife?"

"Is that such a bad thing?"

Basil sighed deeply and covered his face with his hands. "God, there's always one, isn't there?"

"One what?" Laska challenged.

"An idealistic lamebrain who actually thinks she's doing her slaves and the world a favor," Basil said. "God, how I hate those donkey-brains. They should hang those socialist pigs. Why don't you go start a union and get murdered by the mine-bosses, elf?"

"But..."

"ARE YOU NOT SATISFIED WITH MY CLEANING?" Irma snarled.

"I only want you to be free..." Laska spoke meekly.

"CLEAN THAT UP!" Irma shouted after she threw a couple of dishes in Laska's general direction. "HOPHOPHOPHOPHOPHOPHOPHOP!"

"Yes, ma'am!" A rather frightened Laska jumped to do Irma's bidding.