"Ah, this be the life," Gurgan said as he sat next to the firepit, talking to his new friends. Nighttime had fallen, and the party had decided to set up camp for the night, despite the protests of Nalia, who was pressing to push on. The party, Nalia and the two squires Gurgan and Elotta were in a semi-circle of wooden logs carried towards the make-shift firepit. On the other side of the firepit, facing the others was Viconia, quietly listening to the conversation and making sure the meat they had brought from Athkatla didn't burn, while Anomen sat further away still, vigorously polishing his armor.

Three large tents flanked the fire, one for four and two for three occupants. The horses were tied to a pole, the huge Clydesdale Tiny towering above all of them.

The light of the full moon augmented the yellowish crackle of a nice campfire. Camp was made at the edge of a forest, overlooking a large patch of green grass.

"It nay be bad," Korgan chuckled. "How be the food doin', Drowsy?"

"Fine," Viconia said, actually doing three things at the same time : Listening to the conversation, keeping an eye on the food and flipping through the pages of one of her books she was researching.

"Ach, I be so hungry, I can eats a bleedin' 'orse!" Korgan exclaimed.

"Not so loud!" Gurgan chuckled. "Our 'orses might here and decide to go on strike!"

"HAR HAR!" Korgan laughed. "Mayhaps we be carryin' the long-nosed freaks on OUR back then, ey?" Korgan had to admit that, for a self-righteous paladin git, Gurgan was a find chap and he could get along easily with him.

"Oh, that wouldn't be the first time horses were more important than people," Jan spoke up. "Allow me to tell you the story of my cousin Jeffrey Jansen, when he encountered the Fabulous Flatulent Horses of Cormyr."

"Oh, sweet Torm," Keldorn muttered.

"Now, these weren't your ordinary horses, you see. Now, Cormyr was always known for its clean air, green hills and generally peaceful setting. That changed overnight, when the horses began so suffer from a most strange affliction. All clean air was driven away as all the horses of town began to toot and expunge all types of noxious gasses into the atmosphere. Laundry was ruined, plants wilted on the spot, Canary-birds dropped in their cages and there was a rapid exodus of cats and dogs from the city as the epidemic continued," Jan chuckled.

"Och," Korgan chuckled. "This be soundin' like 'orse-crap. HAR!"

"But soon enough, the tourist-trade bloomed! Families from all over the tri-kingdom area flocked to Cormyr to have a magical picture taken while standing next to a tooting horse!" Jan raved.

"Do you realize, good gnome," Keldorn said, "how truly difficult it is becoming to tell people I actually associate with you?"

"And when the city was about to be invaded by a group of ravenous orcs, the good people of Cormyr line up all their horses in a row with their rear-ends facing the orcs," Jan said. "Let's just say this particular artillery was the key to a very smelly defeat of those orcishly inclined brigands..."

"I can imagine," Laska grimaced.

"Now, the truth behind the whole matter is, that my cousin Jeffrey Jansen was working on an experiment to make horses run faster, and, for months he had been sneaking gunpowder into the horsefeed. And, to his credit, the Cormyrian horses did actually run faster than a normal horse due to an extra, ahum, push from time to time, but this was not enough for poor Jeffrey... He got greedy, you see? He fed his own horse nitroglycerin, hoping it would eventually launch his horse into the sky! Unfortunately, he did not consider the side-effects of applying highly unstable chemicals to the gastric-intestinal tract of a race-horse. Also, he did not look where he put his feet. That last horse-plop he stepped on exploded and became the death of him, really..."

"What?" Minsc asked. "Boo is confused... Is there no griffin in this story?"

"Of course!" Jan said, "but seeing Jeffrey had blown himself up, the griffin decided to eat the horse instead..."

"No turnip?" Viconia muttered.

"Well, cousin Jeffrey was kinda the black sheep of the family," Jan said. "He preferred 'carrots'," he finished, while twirling his finger along the side of his head.

"Carrots?" Viconia muttered. "Perish the thought..."

"Is... is he always like this?" Squire Elotta asked in a meek, yet slightly clearer voice.

"She speaks!" Laska chuckled.

"Aye," Gurgan said, still chuckling over Jan's story, "it be takin' a while afore Elotta speaks, but when the lass be speakin', she nay knows when to stop!"

"All this comradery is all good and well," Nalia spoke up, sounding a bit bratty. "But I would really prefer that we head to my Keep immediately. It's only four more hours away!"

"My Lady," Keldorn said, trying his best to be polite. "I have already told you..."

"... twelve times before..." Laska added.

"... that we have already travelled for an entire day, and we need to rest before arriving at the siege. We cannot fight a superior force and our sleep at the same time..."

"I... I know," Nalia said and buried her face in her hands. "But... But it's just so frustrating, you know? I know all the people fighting for their lives back there and... and... I'm here sitting safely at a campfire!"

"Ye need nay be feelin' guilty," Gurgan smiled. "Ye risked yer own life to escape the siege ta alert the outside world. And ye came back with help..."

Keldorn smiled. Squire Gurgan would make an excellent diplomatic paladin. His patience, kindness and good humor made him an excellent candidate for knight, even though Gurgan himself didn't yet consider himself worthy of that position.

"I... Perhaps... perhaps," Nalia said and returned to her brooding.

"Sir Keldorn Firecam?" Elotta asked with extreme nervousness. "I... I have heard so many tales of your many travels. Is... Is it true that you slew twenty Hill Giants in the Troll Hill campaign?"

"No, no," Keldorn chuckled. "Me and my unit of thirty knights slew the twenty Hill Giants, not me personally. I seriously doubt any one person could kill twenty Hill Giants in single combat."

"Aye," Gurgan chuckled. "Nay like a fellow squire whom shall remain nameless..."

In the background, the sounds of polishing stopped for a moment, before starting again with twice the vigor.

"Keldorn," Minsc asked. "Boo would like to know why not all of these fine soon-to-be knights are allowed to enter the league of buttkicking heroes! The more feet to kick evil butts, the merrier I say!"

"A good question, Minsc," Keldorn said, to which Gurgan and Elotta opened a willing ear. "The first reason why there's only one position per three squires is one of brotherhood. The Order must not become a faceless organization where no knight knows one another. We knights must rely on each other in combat, and it is far easier to form a bond of trust and comradery if all the knights at least know each other's name. This way, the shortcomings of each knight are known as well, which can be compensated for in the formation of squads. It is one of the reasons the Order has been so successful in dealing with the many evils that stalk the land."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Laska said. "I'd prefer to be part of a smaller group too instead of a faceless mob..."

"Is that why you rejected Lord Belt's offer to become Scar's successor in the Flaming Fist?" Viconia asked.

"Nah," Laska said. "I didn't like the helmets with the fluff sticking out of it..."

"But that's not the only reason," Keldorn said. "Some squires are simply not ready to be knighted, not even if they have gone through the entire course. Most need more combat-training, others need to learn how to work better in a group. Yet more others must learn humility... Some squires even voluntarily remain squires to work another year to hone their skills..."

"That would be me," Gurgan said. "I feel I be not ready to match blades with evil at this point. Besides, I be still too young..."

"Do not disparage yourself, Gurgan," Keldorn said. "I have seen you in combat..."

"I feel I am not ready to be a knight either," Elotta meekly spoke up. "I... I... fall silent whenever someone speaks to me, or whenever I need to speak to a small crowd. It took me a day to become c...confident enough to even speak to Sir Keldorn..."

From the back of camp, a barely audible snort could be heard.

"I be 'avin' nay clue as to why we be named 'most promising' ta be knighted," Gurgan said. "There be others far more worthy that us two, right Elotta?"

"I'll say," Elotta sighed and resumed staring at the ground.

"Are squires usually sent on these kind of missions?" Laska asked.

"No," Keldorn said, "usually a veteran knight takes three squires to seek out brigands or a nest of orcs. The only reason this mission was chosen to determine who gets knighted, is because of this group. I convinced the Order that, considering this party's recent history, we would be capable of dealing with the threat at hand as well as safeguarding the lives of the aspiring knights."

"That be putting yer eggs in one basket, knighty!" Korgan said. "Ye better make sure these pre-knighties donnae be gettin' in the way o' me axe! HAR!"

"So," Jan asked. "Why did you want become knights? No more place in the fire department? Did the fishing-ships sink? Allergic to turnips?"

"Well, me da always told me 'e be likin' me to take over the forge someday, but 'e allowed me to be choosin' me own way in life. 'E told me 'e'd be proud to see me as a knight. I really donnae knowin' why I be so interested in accepting Sir Hidder's offer to join the Order as a squire, but 'e said I be makin' a grand knight some day," Gurgan said.

"My mother sponsored me, actually," Elotta said. "My mother is a celebrated knight in the Order herself. Lady Isabella Trarr, is her name. My father was a wealthy merchant from a noble house. They were married for only a short time, though. My mother found out that my father's reputable business was only a front for an active slave-trading ring. My father was arrogant enough to think that my mother would never learn the truth. In the end, my mother had their marriage declared void and slew my father when the Order moved against his trade. My mother was carrying me then, and I was practically raised in the Order guildhall. Becoming a knight seemed so natural to me..."

"And one day, both of you will walk the hallowed halls of the Order as proud knights..." Keldorn said, confident of the truth of his statement.

"What about the grouch over there?" Laska snorted, and pointed at Anomen, still sitting away from the campfire, polishing his armor.

"Oh, don't be mindin' 'im," Gurgan said. "'E be aloof to anyone nay 'avin' the same ideals and ideas of knighthood as 'e be 'avin'..."

"I supposed Helmite rigidity has something to do with it," Elotta mused.

"It's quite a bit deeper than that," Keldorn sighed. "But it is not our place to speak of it..."

"Alright," Laska sighed. "Nalia? You've never told me about how you actually managed to escape the keep?"

"Oh, that was the easy part," Nalia half-smiled, while tossing a chip of wood in the fire. "I escaped the keep through a little-known secret passage. I used sneak out of the keep to bring some money or food to those less fortunate, and this was no different. The enemy mostly concentrated on breaching the front gates, so I managed to sneak away unnoticed."

"Did you catch a glimpse of the enemy?" Keldorn asked. "Do you have any ideas of the numbers of soldiers we will be fighting?"

"Errr, no, no... I didn't," Nalia replied, a little too quickly.

"My father really didn't want me to go," Nalia sighed. "But him being the experienced adventurer and all, I feel I just would have been in the way. But... But I wanted to do at least SOMETHING to defend my home! So I decided to find someone who would help me..."

"Do not worry, my Lady," Keldorn said. "Laska? When we arrive we should spy and observe the siege-camp first before making our move."

"There's a small rocky ridge on the northern side of the keep," Nalia said. "You can observe the entire valley from it..."

"That's the plan then," Laska said. "You say your father is an adventurer?"

"He was an adventurer until he met my mother, and he returned home to his ancestral keep to become the Lord of the De'Arnise lands," Nalia said. "But adventure never left his being. Paperwork and protocol always bored him to tears, and he let his heart guide him, instead of his moneypouch like most Amnian nobles. He make a lot of enemies that way, though..."

"Dinner is ready!" Viconia simply said, and soon enough the hungry adventurers gathered to the pot of stew and freshly cooked meat.

"You've been awfully quiet this eve, Viconia," Keldorn remarked as he sat down next to the Drow and scooped some stew on his plate. They were sitting some distance from the rest of the party. In the background, Korgan was amazing his friends with his sheer lack of table-manners.

"I was reflecting on the many nights I spent around the campfire before our party came to Amn," Viconia mused and popped a small piece of meat in her mouth. "Imoen would annoy us with stories or her abysmal juggling-act to keep up 'the spirit' as she called it. Dynaheir would usually do the cooking, since she was the only one with an inkling of experience in that field. Laska would usually joke around, Minsc would feed his hamster, Xan would whine, Alora would prattle, I would brood... A lot of good memories, really... This is the first night in Amn with our new party-members. Somehow, it's not quite the same..."

"It never is," Keldorn nodded, having lost friends himself in his career as a paladin.

"No," Viconia chuckled. "Dynaheir knew a series of spell to keep us safe at night. The first spell created an impenetrable barrier around the campfire, while a second spell created the illusion of a rocky outcropping."

"Still, it is wise to have a partymember on guard duty," Keldorn suggested.

"We found that out the hard way," Viconia chuckled. "Several times really. At one time, a group of dwarven miners had set up camp near the rock and started breaking pick-axes on the rocky illusion. You should have seen the looks on their faces when Dynaheir broke the spell to complain about the noise."

"Hah," Keldorn chuckled.

"And then there was the time a large hobgoblin raiding party had set up camp around the rock while we were sleeping, and, rather than taking on over fifty hobgoblins, we spent all day quiet as a mouse, waiting for them to leave..."

"Hm, I don't think a guard would have helped at that instance."

"Keldorn?" Viconia asked. "Have I ever told you about how I survived when I first fled to the surface?"

"I would be interested to hear the tale of your first steps on the surface," Keldorn asked.

"It was difficult, if you can imagine," Viconia sighed. "Even though my dealings with surface-creatures had been many, I knew only a fraction of common. As I traveled I carefully avoided any contact with the surfacers. In the Underdark, I had the advantage, but not here... I was alone in a strange world. Those rivven who saw me hounded, me with abandon and I fled to the forests. There, I found out there was no quarter there for one such as I. I was hunted by the darthiir, the surface elves, and their honed hatred drove me further. The rift between Drow and Elf is deep, suliss. This is why I was especially distrustful of Laska when we first met, even though she made every effort to win my trust."

"But you are good friends now," Keldorn added. "You must have overcome this cultural barrier..."

"Indeed. But long before that, a group of goblins tried to seal my fate. I had no armor, spells and my only weapon was a stout branch, but a human merchant came in his caravan and his guards scattered them," Viconia snorted. "From a distance he had thought me to be a surface elf. Surprisingly, when he learned I was Drow he offered me shelter. It was a sanctuary while I learned the human tongue. Luckily, I am quick to learn language, and common is simpler than the Drow tongue..."

"A noble deed for a merchant," Keldorn remarked. "Surprisingly noble for a merchant, actually..."

"Not THAT noble, Keldorn," Viconia chuckled. "The price for my safety was the favors I bestowed. The erotic arts that the Drow have honed for an eon."

"By the gods!" Keldorn's eyes grew wide. "How can a dog such as him ask such things from a helpless woman?!"

"Hah!" Viconia snorted. "He was a rank amateur at best, and never passed the beginner's level. Using me for pleasure is one thing, but I would have hoped he'd invest a little more effort in the whole thing."

"I... see..." Keldorn sighed.

"Oh, carnal pleasure is no skin off my nose, Keldorn," Viconia said. "Drow culture is practically centered around it... One day, I had enough of his pawings and decided to take the initiative myself, a bad decision as it turned out. His heart gave out, and the guards chased me away, thinking I had murdered him. But I did manage to make off with a large number of gems, a chainmail and a magical flail... Some more stew?" Viconia asked.

"Ah, yes, thank you," Keldorn replied.

The party had retired to the tents for the night, and Laska took the first guard, as she usually did. Keldorn had decided a second guard would be necessary for a party this size, and has chosen the squires for secondary guard-duty. Unfortunately, the first person on guard next to Laska was Anomen.

An awkward silence hung between them as they faced each other across the fire. Anomen was still polishing his shield, while Laska was twiddling her thumbs thinking back to a story Imoen once told her. 'Heh, it's been a while... How did that song she used to sing whenever she told that story go?' Laska thought to herself, and softly hummed to Imoen's lyrics of her rendition of 'the Lady and the Orc'. As an elf, it was very easy for her to carry a tune, but apparently Anomen took offence.

He dropped the shield. "Will you please stop humming? Your presence here is bad enough!"

"Oh, so sorry," Laska grimaced. "I was not aware that the 'delicate genius' needs utter silence. I will refrain from humming..."

"What are you doing now?" Anomen asked a moment later.

"Tappin' my toes," Laska replied.

"Well, STOP it!"

"Jerk," Laska muttered under her breath.

"What is it NOW?!" Anomen snarled.

"Just clapping my hands," Laska said. "Gotta keep the rhythm going!"

Anomen, considering if placing his hammer through Laska's skull might cost him his knighthood (or if it was even possible to match Laska's speed, for that matter), decided to simply ignore the elf.

"Anomen," Laska asked. "Why did you not join your fellows around the campfire to get to know us?"

"Let me bend your ear a moment, then," Anomen retorted.

"Ack!" Laska grimaced and instinctively covered the pointed ears emerging from her hair. "Never say that to an elf! Least of all me!"

"Nevertheless," Anomen said. "I do not associate with people of lesser morals."

"Lesser morals?" Laska snarled.

"Yes," Anomen said. "Lesser morals. Let's see, you travel with a maniacal dwarf whose only loyalty is to the coins in his pockets, a huge oaf who talks to a hamster, an annoyingly chatty gnome and the evil that is a Drow!"

"Is Keldorn a person of lesser morals too, Anomen?" Laska snarled, clenching her fists, ready to punch some sense into the arrogant Helmite.

"No," Anomen spoke, "but he is lowering himself by associating with the likes of your party, as are Gurgan and Elotta. Have you listened to them? Have you heard them whine about their insecurities? They don't deserve to be knighted and I DO! I have slaved for the Order! I have honed my skills! I have dreamed to become a knight all my life, and they simply have their wish dropped in their laps! I DESERVE to be knighted!"

"Yak, yak, yak... And that's why you don't sit at our campfire?" Laska snarled. "You're afraid to be tainted by our 'evil ways'?"

"Look at you," Anomen said. "You dare to call yourself good, while you merely play the role like an actor!"

"Beholder cults wiped out by Laska and friends : one. Beholder cults wiped out by Anomen : Zero," Laska chuckled.

"Mere mercenary-work!" Anomen spat and continued polishing.

"Slaver-rings round up by Laska and friends : one. Slaver-rings round up by Anomen : Zero..." Laska retorted as she sat crosslegged on the log.

"Perhaps," Anomen said, while he finished polishing his "But you conduct yourself in a most chaotic matter! You drink like a fish! You pick fights in bars for fun! You take nothing in life seriously! You intent to cover your entire body with ink to strike fear in all those whom you encounter. Why else would you have a tattoo of a blue dragon!"

"Anomen," Laska said. "I have tattoos because I LIKE them... And, how do you know so much about me? If I didn't know better, I'd think you've been spying on me!"

"I make it my duty to know the evil which dwells among the good citizens of Athkatla!" Anomen retorted quickly.

"And how can you know about the blue dragon?" Laska asked with narrowed eyes. "It's on my lower back and upper leg, and covered by both my armor and casual clothes..."

"Errr, well," Anomen stammered, and Laska's elven sight picked up a slight blush at being discovered.

"Hmmm, I have a nice view from the Order guildhouse from the pool on the second story of my house," Laska snarled. "Perhaps you were watching when I went for a morning dip?!"

"I... I... RESENT the implication!" Anomen said, really blushing violently red now. "It's just the sort of wild accusation I would expect from a woman who travels the world without the comfort of virtues or morals!"

"And how many times have you stared at my naked 'morals', Helm-boy?!" Laska chuckled. "I really must put curtains in my pool-room..."

"Regardless," Anomen stammered. "My opinion of you and your cretinous friends stands! The righteous path ever beckons to those of virtue, but you shall be swept away by following your craven lusts..."

"I..." Laska stated, utterly shaking with rage. "I won't break your nose for a second time, Anomen... I really will not..." she said, walked away.

"Ah, because you know I am prepared for it now! Run, then, with your tail between your legs! Now ... Where is my helmet?"

"Here!" Laska snarled and threw him the helmet. "And I bid you to stop staring at my 'craven lusts' in the future! I'll go see to the horses..."

"Good riddance!" Anomen shouted as he moved to put on the helmet.

As Laska walked, she inwardly chuckled, barely being able to keep a straight face when thinking of the event to come.

Behind her, she heard the disgusted shout of Anomen sound through the night. She heard his helmet being tossed to the ground in intense anger, while Anomen seemed to run into the woods towards the small brook in the distance.

Laska smiled as she approached the towering Clydesdale Tiny and patted him on the nose. "Thanks for the kind donation, Tiny," she chuckled. "There'll be and extra carrot for you tomorrow... Too bad it didn't explode..."

"Yo, wake up!" Laska whispered to Elotta as it was her turn to take over guarding camp. The elf had just entered the bare tent she, Nalia, Viconia and Elotta were sharing, only to find Viconia reading in one of her books. Elotta, in the meantime, reluctantly awoke and stepped out of the tent to do her duty.

"So," Viconia asked. "What was all that commotion outside?"

"Oh, that," Laska chuckled. "Anomen's brainmatter has just been significantly increased."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he's a real poopy-head now," Laska laughed. "But what about the commotion in here? From the gleeful shout I heard a few moments ago, I thought you had a male up here..."

"No," Viconia smiled. "But I found it, Laska. I know it..."

"You mean?" Laska asked while she knelt and supported herself on the ground.

"Yes, I know how to help Dynaheir!" Viconia exclaimed. "I mean, it's so simple! It was right in front of my nose the whole time..."

"That's great news, Vic!" Laska raved.

"Just... just keep this under wraps for another while, Laska," Viconia grinned. "One task at the time..."

"Right," Laska reluctantly agreed to keep the secret and plopped down on her hammock tried to the two tent-poles, drifting into sleep almost immediately.