"Och, this be our breakfast?" Korgan snarled as he slammed his fist on top of a plate of goat-cheese, squirting the aforementioned cheese all over the table. "It be bloody rabbit-food! I be likin' fat sausage fer breakfast..."

"So we can hear you belch and break wind all day and stare at the bits of sausage stuck in your beard?" Viconia muttered.

"Oy, that be manly! HAR!" Korgan replied.

"Boo says it's not very nice to bite the hands that feed you," Minsc said, then started talking to his hamster. "Err, you're a nice one to say that, Boo, after biting me in the thumb last time I was out of hazelnuts... Ey, that was not funny."

Boo, however, made an attempt to look even more innocent than he usually did and chattered a bit.

"Don't fool Minsc!" the giant admonished. "That wasn't an evil fruitbat that bit me, it was little Boo!"

After spending a lovely night in their sleeping bags on the floor of the cabin, the party, together with Garren Windspear and his son Taar were sharing a simple breakfast at the dinner table. Garren's cabin was large and luxurious, befitting a lord of the manor. Garren wanted to spend his time with his people, rather than being an absent landowner, like so many other Amnian nobles. He even preferred the company of his subjects over his fellow nobles. However, Garren had yet to tell them what had been going on around this area.

"So, you're adventurers then?" Taar, Garren's fifteen year old son asked Laska.

"Well, we've done some dangerous stuff from time to time," Laska snickered.

"I admire adventurers myself, you know," Taar raved. "Oh, yes... I read a lot of books and I have a lot of Famous Adventurers Tradecards. True, I've about ten Elminster cards, though. There is simply too much about him in the set."

"Trading cards?" Laska smiled. "I remember Imoen starting a Kitten-trading cards collection. Spent all her pocket-money on substandard cards with smudged kitten-pictures on them."

"My, my, my," Viconia muttered, "those childhood-stories of yours get more and more interesting all the time..."

"I bet you've been to lotsa places," Taar said. "Say," he began, his eyes lighting up, "do you have a lover already?"

"Em, yes," Laska said, noticing Taar's eyes focused a little lower than her own eyes at the moment, "well, I have..."

"Ah," Taar replied. "Adventurers date other adventurers. No doubt your man has gigantic biceps, wields a sword twice as long as himself and talks in a funny accent?"

"Eh, not exactly," Laska smiled.

"Laska's lover is not even as tall as she is herself," Viconia smirked, throwing oil on the fire.

"But... that's against the rules!" Taar said as he finished his sandwich and went for his glass of milk. "I mean, well..."

"Elves are very open-minded," Dynaheir added with a smirk, adding to Laska's distress.

"Ah, he must be more like Drizzt, then!" Taar announced cheerfully as he gathered up the empty plates and put them in the sink. The cabin consisted mostly of a large single room with two small bedrooms on either side of the room.

In the meantime, all three ladies in the room cringed at the accusation. Taar did not notice, however, and continued on his fanboy rave. "Not THAT's a hero! Two scimitars in each hand, a long white mane, muscles upon muscles. I bet all the ladies dig him..."

Laska, Viconia and Dynaheir, having met Drizzt before, shared a look and decided to have some fun.

"We met Drizzt before," Laska said.

"And we weren't impressed," Viconia added as she smirked and leant back in her chair.

"Dumb as a rock," Laska sighed.

"And twice as ugly," Viconia said, pretending to be doing her nails.

"And rather fat," Dynaheir nodded.

"Gigantic beergut... Couldn't move without sloshing," Laska smiled.

"Morbidly obese," Viconia nodded.

"He had a bald spot," Dynaheir nodded.

"Smelled from his mouth," Laska added.

"Cut himself when he drew his scimitars," Viconia chuckled.

"He can't use words which have more than six letters," Dynaheir smiled.

"Plus!" Minsc suddenly broke in. "He didn't smell so good either! Boo says he smelled like smelly bootfeet which had been smelling for years before actually entering the boots!"

"Good one, Boo," Laska winked at the seemingly smiling hamster.

"Are you sure?!" Taar said as she took a card from his pocket, depicting Drizzt as a 12-foot tall terror of a Drow, brandishing two scimitars and standing triumphantly over an obviously defeated Pit-fiend. "That doesn't look much like his picture."

"We just gave a more accurate description," Viconia said.

"I've heard he's a momma's boy," Jan added.

"Ah, but," Taar said, stepping to stand behind the sitting tattooed elf to show her the picture... and to steal a couple of glances down at her bosom.

"A horrible picture," Laska said. "And, Taar, if you don't stop staring at my boobs I'll stuff your head in that sink."

"Yes, ma'am," Taar gulped and moved to clean off the table.

"HAR HAR!" Korgan roared. "She be too much woman fer ye ta handle anyway, laddie!"

"Lord Windspear," Keldorn spoke for the first time during the breakfast, which for him, a paladin in mourning, consisted only of a cup of water. "You have yet to tell us about the situation on your lands."

"Yes, yes," Garren sighed and steadied himself in his chair. "About two years ago, Lord Jierdan Firkraag, accompanied by a score of his orcish mercenaries came to my cabin. He said this plateau was perfect for his plans, for his impending revenge. He offered me a fortune to buy these lands, saying that no price was high enough to even old scores. Of course, I refused. I love these lands and the inhabitants..."

"And then Firkraag wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, I gather?" Dynaheir noted as she shifted to one side.

"Correct. He just... moved in. There were several ruins of an ancient civilization nearby, hewn into the very rock. Cave-homes. We think Firkraag set up camp there, living like a king."

"You think he set up camp there?" Laska asked. "Nobody knows for sure?"

"Firkraag uses powerful magics to transport from here to Athkatla and back. And all the nobles there love him... He's got wealth, power and is... not an eccentric landowner who lives among his own people," Garren sighed. "And to come back to your question, yes... Firkraag has hired a pack of werewolves to guard the pass. No one has ever returned from the ruins to tell the tale, except one survivor who died of his injuries the next morning."

"That does not explain the presence of those paladins we killed," Viconia said.

"Sliced 'n diced more like! HAR HAR!"

"Korgan, please!" Dynaheir hissed, directing her gaze at Keldorn.

"Ach, they be just weak..." Korgan said and a last bite from his sandwich before Taar cleaned off the last plates.

"Prelate Wessalen is an old friend of mine, and after extensive lobbying he gained the permission of the Amnian courts to attempt to eject Firkraag. That's why those five paladins were sent... They came to town and were hailed as heroes, but they too disappeared for a week. And then you arrived, and they suddenly appeared again, heavily enspelled by illusionary magics."

"Well, that'll get the conspiracy theorists' imaginations working," Jan said. "I once had an uncle who said that demons were looking in on us through toothpaste, so he never brushed his teeth till we all had to look at his rotting gums. Could only eat his turnips mashed after that... So sad. Then there was the phase when he told everyone that demons were looking in on us through water, so he only drank beer. So now he was a gumless drunk. Then he stopped wearing anything with buttons on it, he stopped wearing underwear, he stopped reading books, he stopped eating icecream, he stopped stepping on cobblestones. In the end, he was a gumless, underdressed, illiterate, joyless, legless drunk... It was when he stopped eating turnips we decided it had gone too far!"

"Only then?" Keldorn dared to ask.

"Well, he was always a nutter, you see? So we paid it no mind. But when he stopped eating turnips, we KNEW he was insane. Strangely, in the end he was right. He started saying demons were looking in on us through boxes... and promptly opened up Uncle Morridor's souvenir Fiend-in-the-Box he picked up from a tiefling traveller. Our rose a Glabrezu, grabbed him by the legs and while uttering the words 'Eeeeeewwww, don't you ever take a bath?!' he dragged poor uncle Stinky with him to the Abyss. No doubt, he's still down there, worrying about demons looking in on him."

"I'm sorry I asked," Keldorn muttered.

At that moment, an aide of Garren entered the cabin and whispered something in the lord's ear. Garren nodded for a moment and apologized to his guests for having to leave to take care of some urgent business. According to Keldorn, this was the perfect time to attempt a restoration to life for his four fellow paladins of the Order. After Viconia admonished him for being a pushy male, Laska pulled the bodies from her Bag of Holding. The bodies were remarkably well-preserved, and the illusion seemed to have finally faded. There were three men, and two women. Laska recognized one of them as Ajantis, but judging from Keldorn's pained eyes, he recognized all of them. Viconia prepared her spell, and pulled a strange looking staff from her pouch.

"What is that?" Keldorn asked.

"This is a drod'tea, a rod of life," Viconia said as she sat cross legged. "We obtained it from Mekrath's lair in Athkatla, though how the likes of him got hold of it, I cannot begin to fathom. It is a Drow device, used to amplify curative magics. During raids, the war priestesses of the attacking house are usually rely more on offensive magics instead of curative spells, so, to keep the soldiers fighting, this device amplifies curative spells so that a priestess can heal or raise several of her fellows with a single spell. I will now attempt to use this artifact to raise the paladins with a single spell. I only have two Raise Dead spells memorized, and Shar has not yet granted me the powers of Resurrection, so it will have to do."

"Please, concentrate," Keldorn offered.

Viconia nodded and closed her eyes. She held out the artifact in her outstretches palms, making the subtle hand-movements and vocal commands to form a Raise Dead spell, focused on the artifact. A blue light descended over the casting Drow, the curative energies flowing into the obsidian rod. The rod glowed with power, which seemed to increase five-fold by the intensity of the light. Then, five orbs of power shot from the device and settled above the five bodies near. And...

"Nothing happened!" Keldorn spat. "Are you certain this device works?!"

"Positive..." Viconia muttered.

"Are you quite sure you have cast the spell corre..."

"NEVER AGAIN DOUBT MY ABILITIES, WAEL!!" Viconia shouted in intense anger.

"I'd leave it alone if I was thee, Keldorn," Dynaheir snickered.

"My... apologies, Viconia," Keldorn nodded. "I was... distracted. Please try again..."

"If this fails, I must pray for new spells. That might take a while," Viconia nodded. Then, she started again, making the subtle handmovements and wording to cast her spell.

Unfortunately, she did not get the chance. Without warning, an out-of-breath halfling wearing a red jerkin stormed through the door and did not stop. Instead, the startled halfling collided with the casting Drow, sprawling the both of them over the floor as the artifact rolled away. The spell, naturally, fizzled.

"Apologies!" the halfling shouted, panicking when he saw that both Keldorn and Viconia had murder written in their eyes. "Apologies!"

"Yum!" Taar shouted as he came running from his room, and promptly tripped over the fallen artifact. He stumbled forward and landed with his head between Laska's ample breasts. "Gods, I'm on Mount Celestia," he muttered into Laska's chest.

"You'll wish you were in the Abyss if you don't remove your hands from my butt," Laska snarled, and Taar only then realized where his hands were.

"It'd be worth it," Taar said, again muffled by Laska's chest.

Laska decided to semi-gently removed the hormone-bomb otherwise known as a teenager. Sadly, Taar stumbled again... this time landing on top of Viconia, who was in the process of getting up.

"Errr, hi!" Taar smiled and turned bright red as they lay in a very compromising position if someone should enter the cabin.

"Not in your life-time, boy," Viconia snarled and pushed him away.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!" the halfling Yum hopped up and down. "They're coming, they're coming, they're coming, they're coming, they're coming!"

"WHO the bloody hell is coming?!"

"Firkraag's thugs, Firkraag's thugs, Firkraag's thugs, Firkraag's thugs!" Yum shouted then ran to hide into the cupboard. Just as soon as Yum was out of sight, four people dimension-doored into the four corners of the cabin. Three orcs, armed with bows and arrows, aimed their weapons at Laska, while a forth person was remarkably a heavily armored elven female.

"So, you're the one my lord hates with a passion?" she spoke in a sultry voice. "Can't say you're worth all the trouble, but his reasons are his own..."

Laska, feeling her people's innate hatred for Orcs well up, stepped up to the elven rogue to stare her in the eye. "Who the hell are you? And what kind of elf travels with Orcs?"

"Oh, please," she spoke. "I'm the same kind of elf you are... Raised by humans. But unlike you, I don't care about it. Pointy ears aside, the elven ideals mean nothing to me... only money does. Firkraag wants you dead, so I make you dead... But not now."

The elf waved her hands, and both she and Taar disappeared in a flash of light, while the orcs suddenly advanced. The orcs, however, never realized they didn't stand a chance. Korgan's axe floored two of them, while Dynaheir's spell ripped apart the third, ending the battle as quickly as it began. Laska, however, had not moved from the spot, and was reading a piece of paper pressed into her hands by the elven rogue. Snarling, she crumpled it up and tossed it into a wastebasket.

"What was that?" Jan asked. "And what do you have against poor, innocent pieces of paper?"

"A challenge," Laska said, "from Firkraag. Daring me to come and rescue Taar Windspear to see who's the better. I SWEAR! I'm going to get to the bottom of this and punch the living daylights out of that guy! I'm going to rip out his ribcage and turn it into a xylophone! I'm going grab that prissy elven rogue by both of her boots and use her to smash his skull in!"

"Errr, in the meantime," Jan said as he regarded the smashed-up cabin, "I think we have some explaining to do when Garry-boy comes home..."

The explaining went rather well, all things considered. Garren had been expecting an attack ever since Firkraag's thugs had begun to grow more bold and terrorize the town of Windspear more openly. Laska, however, now very much irked by Firkraag's attack was ready to engage the evil lord, and rescue Garren's son on the side.

Together, fully armed and armored, the party stood by the edge of town in the middle of the day, the sun reflecting off their many metal appliances.

"You can avoid the were-wolves by going along the side of the mountain," Garren said, still in obvious distress for his son's life. "You'll encounter little opposition, but, there is a dryad-coven living by the lake. We have little interaction with them. They leave us alone, we leave them alone, but, well, they've been known to seduce villagers, so be on your toes. They might take offence to you traversing their lands."

"Oh," Laska said, taking three acorns from her pouch. "I think I have my travel-papers right here."

"Ohhhh! We will help the poor trapped dryads now! Glorious day!" Minsc roared in happiness.

"Fellahs? Lets go!" Laska smiled and guided her friends off the main road towards a deep forest of pine-trees.

"Have you come to spend some time with us? Have you come to share our merriment for all eternity?" the scantilly clad lady-of-the-lake spoke after she rose from the waters. The leading dryad was voluptuous and lovely, tossing her wet hair over her shoulder as she walked.

Staring over her shoulders, the tattooed elf giggled as she noticed her male friends all staring starry-eyed at the beautiful lake-nymph. "Pity," Laska said, while she handed the dryad queen the three acorns, "that the best offers are always made when you're already taken."

"Can't say I like the decor," Jan said as he regarded the ruins, "In fact, it reminds me of grandma Jansen's latest marriage... an amalgamation of old and new. Her most recent husband was an Half-Orc in his twenties..."

"I don't even want to know," Viconia sighed.

The three dryads were overjoyed to be free from Irenicus, and were more than happy to guide Laska's friends through their ancestral forest. Safely avoiding any packs of werewolf patrols, they now stood in front of the ancient ruins, which had been partially rebuild to support a marble arch. Statues of dragons in flight flanked the arch, their eyes following them across the broken square in front of the arch. Strangely enough, the rest of the ruins were not even touched.

"What kind of nutcase would live here?" Laska said.

"A depraved noble?" Viconia suggested.

"Close enough! Lets go!"

The party stormed the gate... and walked right into an ambush.