"So this soldier chappy wants us to ruin this other Roenall chappy?" Jan asked as Laska and her party were standing in front of the government building, waiting for the trial to begin. Evening had started to fall, and the light of the setting sun bathed Athkatla in a deep, orange glow.

"For the sixteenth time today, YES!" Viconia snarled at the confused game.

"Then, why was the riot-squad chasing those Otyughs all over the city?" Jan asked. "And what has the trouser-shortage of '49 got to do with all of this?"

"I never mentioned any riot-squads!" Viconia snarled in return. "And this so-called trouser-shortage never had ANYTHING to do with this!"

"Ah," Jan said, smiling and pointing his index-finger at the angry Drow, "but that's what THEY want you to think!"

"Who are 'THEY'?!" Viconia shouted in frustration.

"Nobody knows, and when anyone finds out, they are never heard from again," Jan spoke in a hushed voice.

"I wish you'd know more about them then," Viconia muttered.

"Jan, it would have been handy if you would have been actually THERE, when we discussed this whole matter..." Laska chuckled.

"Yeah, sorry, Lissa and I got held-up at a snail-crossing," Jan replied as he leant against the building, "and you know : When the parents cross, so do all their ten thousand offspring..."

"So you're going after Isaea, then," Nalia stated as she stood in front of the entrance to the government-building. She has been jittery all day, and finally, her nervousness had reached its peak as the tribunal was about to commence. "Getting rid of him would be nice, but the real fight will be inside the courtroom. Sir Keldorn? Is everything in place?"

"Yes," Keldorn spoke solemnly, "I will be the only one required to testify, since I was charged with this mission, which leaves Laska free to pursue this other matter. I have arranged for... everything."

"Good," Nalia muttered. "Into the breach then?"

Keldorn offered Nalia an encouraging smile. "We shall unmask the Roenalls this day. They shall pay for their misdeeds..."

"I just hope it all turns out that way," Nalia muttered as Keldorn led her into the building.

"In the name of Amnian Law, the Council of Six, and Nobility, let this hearing commence!" a middle-aged red haired woman who was the magistrate of Athkatla announced. Bylanna Etoil was well-known as being an incorruptibly impartial judge, tough but very fair, and ruled more to the spirit of the law rather than to the actual letter of the law. She was respected by friend and foe alike, but at the moment, the Roenalls seemed to be sure that this rare individual would rule in their favor. Lord Roenall and his four sons sat smugly in an ornate bench, facing the De'Arnise bench, which only seated one very nervous girl. Keldorn stood beside Bylanna's chair, his arms crossed while he regarded the Roenalls with a thunderous look on his face.

"Yes, yes, yes," one of Lord Farthington Roenall's sons spoke with a whiny smug voice. "Can we GET on with it? Just give us the twit's lands and be done with! I must meet with my date at the debutante's ball in an hour!"

"Do you realize I can hold your entire delegation in contempt of court for this disrespectful behaviour?" Bylanna thundered. "I do not tolerate these kinds of outbursts!

Lord Farthington Roenall shot his youngest run a look so foul, the boy cringed and decided it would be better to keep his mouth shut for the duration of the trial.

"Your Honor," Lord Roenall rose to speak to the judge. "May I respectfully inquire as to the nature of Sir Keldorn's involvement in this trial."

"Sir Keldorn will serve as a witness. Since he experienced the invasion of Keep De'Arnise first hand, meaning his report will be invaluable," Bylanna stated. "And since the Order was in charge of the liberation of Keep De'Arnise, his voice will weigh heavily in my final decision."

"I must protest! Sir Keldorn cannot be impartial in this matter," Lord Roenall roared.

"I beg to differ, Lord Roenall," Keldorn spoke calmly. "As a Knight of my Order, it is my duty to give an impartial account for the courts if need be."

"Lord Roenall, please sit down," Bylanna said calmly.

"I pirate I was, hic, meant to be! Trim the, hic, and roam the, hic," the roaming sailor wailed into the night as he staggered over the docks, in an obvious state of extreme inebriation. "Yo, ho, hic and a bottle of HIC!" he wailed as he staggered and slammed into a wall. "Oy, sssxuse me, ma'am!" the pirate Barg said while tipping his hat. "Ten men on a... Errrrmmm... Errrrm, dead man's... leg?" he muttered just before slamming into a garbage can. "Errr, sorry sir..." he told an imaginary gentleman. "Oy, there's no need to, hic get snappy about it! Oh, so it's a hic fight you want, innit?" That said, Barg rose his fists and punched out his imaginary friend. "That'll hic loin ya!"

Barg continued on his path until he came across a vision of loveliness gently stepping down a stone stairway. "Lookit that Drow! I hiced in every port on the Coast an' I ain't seen legs like that! Wowie! Errr," he said while trying to focus. "Oh, ye be a triplet! Lemme go buy you three gals an ale! hic"

"Oh, dear Shar!" the Drow replied with a deep sigh, "why do I always attract the scum of the earth?!"

"Oy, oy, oy!" Barg hicced along, "Now, you three girlies can tell me the truth! Hic Are the rumors true?"

"They are, iblith, but we, em, I mean I'll be damned to prove it to you EVER!" Viconia retorted. "Now, my friend and I would like too..."

"Friend?! hic," Barg staggered around until he noticed a huge hulking mountain of a man holding a hamster.

"Boo doesn't like your singing, but Minsc does!" he smiled and greeted gently.

"Och," he said, ignoring Minsc, once again focusing all his attention on Viconia. "My little Drow-puppet. Hic I bet your skin is silky soft!" he grinned, lunging at the snarling Drow. Suddenly Barg found himself dragged backwards by the collar.

"Minsc says it's not a nice thing to lunge for a lady. Boo also says this lady will do terrible things to you if you grab her," Minsc admonished.

"Oy, oy, oy!" Barg hicced. "Lemme at my hic lovely Drow triplet! I don't need to be dragged hic all over the docks by you and your two hic brothers."

"Look, fool," Viconia told Barg as she stared him straight in the eye. "I only wish to know of your connection to..."

"Hey, I can paysss, paysss for a drink for you three fine ladies!" Barg spoke in his slurring voice, while Viconia waved her hand in front of her to get rid of the stench. "I be hic paid by hic Isaeas Roe-nail! I be pirating for him, you know! Yup, I plunders and rapes and pillages hic, and in turn, Isaeas covers our tracks when we sell the loot. We get to keep hic a lot too... Pretty shiny stuff..."

"Ah," Viconia chuckled. "You've told me all I wanted to hear... And, close your eyes, and I shall give you your reward."

Barg complied with a goofy grin and closed his eyes. A few moments later, his hands were roving over a body that had filled his dreams since adolescence, and pressed his whiskey-stained lips on those of one of the Drow triplets.

"So," Minsc told Viconia as they made their way back up the stairs, "Boo wants to know : How long will it take pirate Barg to figure out he's kissing a wooden mannequin you just found in the garbage?"

"I really don't want to know," Viconia chuckled.

"It is a clear matter," Lord Roenall smiled. "Nalia is simply to young to rule her lands responsively..."

"I am not a little girl anymore, Lord Roenall," Nalia rose from her bench. "Thanks to this invasion..."

"Your Honor," Lord Roenall continued unfettered. "She is barely seventeen! And unprepared for the life of rulership! Think of those who live on her land! How they will suffer under inept rule!"

"They'll have it a lot better even then compared to your iron hand-approach!" Nalia shouted, slamming her hand on the table in front of her.

"Our lessers require strong rule or they will fall into sloth..." Lord Roenall smiled.

"Hah!" Nalia snorted. "When's the last time your sons have actually done a day of work, or study, or... ANYTHING for that matter!"

On the Roenall bench, all of the Roenall sons took on a sour expression, while Isaea himself added a more thunderous look. He rose and shouted : "This is all consequential! You were betrothed to me! Therefore, by law, I am now ruler of your lands."

"ORDER!" Bylanna shouted, and all parties slowly sat down again to face the judge. "I understand your weaponmaster, Captain Yang-ja is now in temporary control of your lands."

"That is correct," Nalia said, "sadly she could not be here, since she is handling a crisis with the local dikes. She uncovered an inconsistency in the dike-repair schedule. They were on the brink of breaching, so she's overseeing emergency repairs."

"It seems Yang-ja is a very competent leader," Bylanna said, "but, regardless, social betrothal is considered legal. I'm afraid the court's hands are tied here..." This last statement caused many wide and evil grins to cross over the faces of those in the Roenall-camp.

"But," Nalia said, her face coloring bright red, "Errr, isn't social betrothal only binding if the girl in question is, errr, a virgin?"

"Yes," Bylanna nodded, "where is this heading, miss De'Arnise?"

"Iamnolongeravirgin," Nalia said faster than a humming-bird flaps its wings and, again, her face grew red with embarrassment. "Errr, when the keep was about to be invaded... And just before I escaped, well, Daleson and I... In the stables... We're in love you see, and... Well... Err..."

"WHAT?!" Shouted Lord Roenall as he watched his easy victory going down the drain.

But, the word 'WHAT?!' was also exclaimed by a beggar in one of the visitor benches in the back of the room.

"What is this peasant doing here?!" Lord Roenall shouted, venting his frustrations on the poor beggar in the corner. "Remove him this instant!" he ordered Isaea.

"You shall do nothing of the kind," Bylanna replied sharply. "These proceedings are open... And, to come back at our case, I declare Nalia's social betrothal null and void..."

"OUTRAGEOUS!" Isaea shouted as he rose from the bench. "I am to rule her lands!"

"Hah!" Nalia chuckled. "You won't even rule a LATRINE on my lands! Hell, you'd probably botch that up too!"

"Sooo," Laska purred as she sat in the Sea's Bounty, honing in on her prey : The malicious Officer Dirth, a direct subordinate of Isaea Roenall. From the information the brave soldier who had dared to speak up had given her, the polite smile on the man's face hid not only a corrupt officer, but a murderer and an extortionist.

"Chop, chop," Dirth ordered The Thumb as he called for his ordered drinks. "So, my Lady," he once again focused his attention on the elf, "we don't often see elves in this city. Not one such as you, in any case."

"One such as me?" Laska asked.

"One who looks so lovely and dangerous at the same time," Officer Dirth smiled, and Laska noticed that, for the tenth time since they had met, his gaze grazed her ample bosom, and it was obvious how Dirth intended this night to end.

"Oh, you cad!" Laska chuckled outwardly. 'Oh, you bastard buggery,' she snarled inwardly.

"I mean... those tattoos... They bring out your eyes," he said, then his face fell a little. "Your... facial tattoos! It's you!" he shouted as he got up from his seat and fumbled for his sword. "Sion and Ketta described you to me when you wiped out Captain Heagan's operation. Come for another slaver have you?!"

"Yes..." Laska smiled, making no move to attack.

"You have found death!" he shouted, but before he could charge, his eyes rolled in the back of his head, and dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Apparently, this sort of thing was hardly uncommon, since no one in the inn seemed to mind or notice.

"Och," Korgan muttered under his breath and pulled his axe out of Dirth's back. It came loose with a sucking sound... "they donnay be makin' slavers like they used ta. Died with a single slice..."

"Do you have the slaver documents?" Laska asked.

"Aye," Korgan chuckled, "and the fool boy's name be on it, stamped with the Roenall seal..."

"We still have some time," Laska chuckled. "Shall we finish our ales first?"

"Ach, now ye be talkin'! HAR HAR!"

"And then, we confronted their leader Tor'Gal and defeated him in his lair. It was he who told us of the connection between Lady Delcia Caan, who in turn named the Roenalls as co-conspirators of the invasion. She considered it unacceptable that one not of noble blood led her family's lands," Keldorn said.

"An outrage!" Lord Roenall retorted. "No doubt she wanted to save her own hide by implicating another..."

"Your Honor!" Nalia spoke calmly. "I move for the Roenall family to be implicated and demand a full restitution for all damages!"

"You cannot be serious!" Roenall chuckled, but everyone could clearly see beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Ah, there you are!" Viconia said as Laska and Korgan joined her, Minsc, Dynaheir and Jan at their rendez-vous in front of the government building. "About time you showed up... We've drawn the confession out of Barg..."

"And we have the slaver documents," Laska replied.

"And we found something interesting too," Jan said. "Tell her, Dynie..."

"The obnoxious little twerp smuggles gems," Dynaheir smiled. Laska noticed Dynaheir seemed to have more jewels than she had had earlier this night. Five sets of clip-on earrings, five necklaces, all fingers covered with rings, both wrists covered with four bracelets each, all jewels ranging from diamond studded to plain gold. Jan was also covered from head to toe with all manner of valuable treasure.

"Something you want to tell me?" Laska chuckled.

"Well, we, errr," Dynaheir smiled.

"We found the evidence rather quickly," Jan smiled, "so we decided to rob him blind..."

"Tell me about it," Viconia smiled, "I've been blinded by the moon reflecting off that shiny gold more than once..."

"Ah, that reminds me of my uncle Baracus Jansen. Tough gnome he was, arms like tree trunks!" Jan said. "Pretty strong. Used to throw griffins around when they swooped down on little old gnomes! Always drank his milk with turnips! Sadly, he had this love of adorning his neck will an incredible amount of heavy gold chains left over from his adventuring days. And that's how he died..."

"He died because of the gold around his neck?" Dynaheir asked.

"No, no, no," Jan replied, "No, all that heavy gold bent his spine into this downward U-bend, and he just rolled down the stairs one day..."

"Ugh," Viconia muttered, "Let's just get inside, shall we?"

Isaea sighed. This trial was steadfastly turning into a shouting match, and a seemingly easy victory could very turn out to be a crushing defeat for him and his family. And now, not only had their ill-fated invasion failed, but he was also robbed of his chance to rule at Keep De'Arnise. Damn his father and his chronic gambling habit! If the courts decided that his family had to pay restitution, they would be poor. POOR!

"Psssst," he heard from behind, but before he could turn away, he felt the tip of a dagger press against the back of his neck.

"Oh," he whispered as she realized it was the nasty tattooed elf. "It's you. Look, my family is already about to be ruined, so what do you want from me?"

"Well," Laska replied. "Five hundred gold a month for the next fifty years would be nice."

"Come again?" Isaea asked.

"Five hundred gold a month, or I will reveal to the courts that you have a... secondary income smuggling gems and slaves..." Laska sing-songed, and for a moment, Isaea was sure the elf was gloating.

Isaea cringed inwardly. If his family lost this trial, he would need his position in the guards to be able to continue his criminal affairs, but even a hint of involvement with slavery could ruin a man. He had to do something or go down the same sinking ship his family was currently in.

"I want those documents..." Isaea smiled. "I swear I will get you for this..."

"Not bloody likely," Laska grinned. "But you can buy them off me. Meet me at the graveyard five minutes from now. On top of the De'Arnise crypt... Come alone..." Suddenly, the dagger was withdrawn and the elf had disappeared like a shadow. Being careful not to be noticed by his father or the magistrate, Isaea quietly snuck out the courtroom.

Isaea shivered as he stood in the graveyard. The moon cast an eerie white glow over the headstone, and any moment now, Isaea could swear he saw a hand rising from one of the dirty graves. Luckily, after blinking a few times, it seemed to have disappeared. At least this high perch would be easily defensible if the undead decided to rise. Now where was that damn elf... Maybe, one of his men...

"Sorry I'm late," he heard say from the shadows in the corner. The tattooed elf, looking more dangerous in the dead of night than she was during the day, stepped from the shadowd. "But I ran into some trouble. If you are looking for your men, you'll find them unconscious in one of the empty crypts. Very naughty of you : I told you to come alone..."

"You said..." But Isaea would never finish his sentence. He never saw Laska's fist coming, but only the brick floor as he approached it.

"Wakey, wakey, wakey!" Laska chuckled as she tossed some water in the bratty noble's face. Isaea shuddered from the cold water, shook his head... and looked at himself in horror as Laska released a rope. Isaea felt his weight drop until he landed on a rickety footstool. Also, he noticed a sudden pressure around his neck... A rope... Connected to the beam above.

"Isaea Roenall, welcome to your execution!" Laska grinned like a cheshire cat. "Any last words? Any last regrets?"

"You said you wanted money!" Isaea stammered.

"Nope," Laska grinned. "I want to see you swing! I believe in swift justice."

"This... this is murder!" Isaea tried.

"Oh?" Laska said as she grabbed the noble's chin and almost ground his jaw to dust as she squeezed with all her strength. "I doubt those whom you sold into slavery would see it that way. Or those whose vessels that were attacked by pirates hired by YOU?"

"I... I..."

"You're going to die and your last words are 'I... I...'?" Laska smiled. "Not very historically significant words, are they?" To her satisfaction, she noticed a wet spot was rapidly expanding downward into the noble's pants.

"I... can give you money! I can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams!" Isaea almost cried.

"Thanks for the offer, " Laska smiled, "but good guys don't take bribes. Just please tell the truth for once in your life and I might just decide to let you go!"

"I... I don't know what you are talking about..." Isaea stammered.

"DON'T PROVOKE ME!" Laska shouted and kicked at the footstool, breaking one of the legs. Isaea yelped and tip-toed over the now three-legged stool. "ONE MORE KICK AND YOU'RE DONE FOR! YOU TRADE IN SLAVES, YOU TRADED IN ILLEGAL GEMS AND YOU'VE ORPHANED POOR RISA!!"

"ALRIGHT! I ADMIT IT! I TRADE IN SLAVES! I DID IT ALL! THAT COMMONER BITCH REFUSED ME! ME!! ISAEA ROENALL! DASHING OFFICER! I KILLED HER FOR THE INSULT AND SO WHAT? I AM A NOBLE! I CAN DO WITH THE COMMONER CATTLE WHATEVER I LIKE!!"

Laska said nothing, but smiled... before kicking the stool away. After a brief cry of disbelief, Isaea dropped... and felt the rope around his neck give way and slip off, only to find the real rope had been tied to his belt.

"Say, guys," Laska chuckled. "You heard that?"

"We sure did," said the heavily accented voice of Chief Inspector Brega, flanking by Isaea's superior Corgeig Axehand.

"S... Sir?" Isaea stammered as he hung suspended in the air.

"Shut up, fool!" Corgeig Axehand snarled. "You're a disgrace to the guards! Consider yourself stripped of rank!"

"And," Brega added, "there's no chance in hell you'll be getting out of jail before the next century..."

"You... You," Isaea snarled at Laska. "You've ruined me!"

"Glad to oblige," Laska said, untied the rope and let Isaea crash to the ground. As Isaea landed, he locked a gaze of pure hatred on the tattooed elf. Then, before Brega could apprehend him, he lunged from a gleaming object on the floor : A dagger. Smiling like a shark, he lunged at Laska...

With the speed of lightning, Laska grabbed his wrist with one hand, and slammed her other hand into Isaea's elbow, snapping the bones under the force of her blow. With a flip, she thrust Isaea's hand still holding the dagger towards his chest. The bratty noble stared in disbelief at the piece of metal now lodged in his ribcage. Laska grinned and delivered a sharp kick against his chin, sending the dying noble over the railing. Seconds later, he landed with a sickening crunch.

"Well," Corgeig Axehand said as the three of them stood over Isaea's broken body a few moments later, "that will save the taxpayers some money."

"But how did you know he would go for the dagger?" Brega asked the elf.

"Hah!" Laska chuckled. "Because I put it there..."

"Lies, slander, untruth, gossip!" Lord Roenall snarled in desperation.

"Ever though she might have been," Keldorn spoke. "I detected no lies from Lady Delcia Caan, and she implicated you directly. Unlike the lies I am detecting from you, Lord Roenall..."

"HAH!" Lord Roenall said, but his voice wavered, and he was sweating profusely now. His sons were no better off, and were now faced with the prospect of losing their snooty lifestyle. "And... how do we know YOU are speaking the truth, Sir Firecam! For all we know, Nalia has bribed you already! What did she promise you, Keldorn? A nice stretch of land for your retirement!"

"I shall pretend," Keldorn snarled, "I did not hear that!"

"Regardless," Bylanna told the court. "Sir Keldorn's account may not weigh in anyone's favor."

"Too bad poor Dougal died," Lord Roenall taunted at Nalia now that his confidence was slightly improved. "But dead men tell no tales."

"And THAT's where you're wrong, Farty!" came from the beggar in the corner.

"Who dares!!!" Lord Roenall snarled as he heard him called by his none too flattering nickname. "I shall have you flogged."

"Father," Nalia smiled.

"WHAT?!" Farty replied.

"Indeed," the beggar said, casting away his dirty cloak to reveal the armored form of Lord Dougal De'Arnise. "It was you who conspired with Caan to have our keep invaded so that you could get your greedy mitts on my lands and my people! But we fought back and overcame! And now it is time for revenge, fiend!"

"I have heard enough!" Bylanna said with a bemused smile. "I hereby declare that House Roenall must pay restitution to House De'Arnise!"

"NO!" Roenall shouted in denial.

"People died because of you, Farty!" Lord Dougal snarled. "Children orphaned, loyal men fallen... and for what? Some lousy coins in your pockets so you can go on gambling for another two weeks! And to make matters worse you would ruin my daughter's life for it! You will NOW pay for your crimes!"

"All holdings of House Roenall shall be seized to be auctioned off and your expenditures are to be placed under financial control until you have paid damages to House De'Arnise down to very last copper," Bylanna concluded.

"It is not enough!" Dougal roared. "Your Honor, I respectfully request to duel with Farty Roenall right here. To the death!"

"Such is your right," Bylanna said, not being surprised in the very least.

"Well," Farty Roenall said while he drew his sword. "I always knew it would end like this! I feel it is only right to warn you," he smiled cockily, "that I was trained by the best weaponmasters there are!"

And then, the fighting began. Sword on sword, the two gentlemen fought with fervor. Farty Roenall was indeed a skilled fighter, but his manner betrayed the fact that he had never fought outside of controlled conditions before. Dougal has picked up most of his tricks at swordfighting in the field, during his adventuring days. For all of Farty's boasting, he was severely outmatched both by Dougal's strength, speed and agility.

"That's a little something I learned from an elven bladesinger," Dougal smiled as he made a diverting swing with his sword, only to twirl around to nick into Farty's shoulder, leaving a deep gash.

Nalia was very worried for her father, even though she knew for certain he would win this battle. Still, she expected the Roenalls to pull an underhanded trick to win this battle.

At the side, Farty's now eldest son grinned like a shark... as he fished a small crossbow from his pouch. Having used this tactic during one of his father's duels before, he intended to shoot a tiny poisoned dart into the opponent, intending to weaken Dougal enough for his father to overpower him. But before he could fire, a sharp axe was suddenly pressed against his throat from behind his back. "Oy, oy, oy," Korgan chuckled. "Ye be likin' axes?"

Wisely, the noble dropped the crossbow unused.

"Smart boy," Korgan smiled and withdrew his axe.

"You've ruined me!" Roenall shouted as he rose his sword to hack into his opponent. Unfortunately, he left a very blatant opening, one which Dougal eagerly made use of. His face contorted in pain, Farty Roenall stared in disbelief at Dougal's sword, now piercing his heart.

"You've ruined yourself," Dougal spat and let the Roenall patriarch sink to the floor, disbelief still etched on his features as he blew out his final breath.

"Father!" Nalia giggled and flew into his arms.

"Whoa there, pumpkin," Dougal smiled. "It's over... It's all over. Let's go home..."

"Yes... our home!" Nalia smiled.

"Thank you, Keldorn," Dougal smiled, receiving a smile from the paladin, "for your fine hospitality at your estate this past week and thank you all for your help," he told Laska's party. "Now, Nalia," Dougal asked. "What was this about Daleson?"

"Errr," Nalia blushed bright red once more when they walked out the courtroom.

"Okay," Bylanna sighed as she regarded the remains of Farty Roenall, "someone please get this filth out of my courtroom?"