"TAZOK?!" Laska shouted as she and her party stepped off the winding staircase and came to a small room containing nothing more than a old wooden table. But next to that wooden table stood a very familiar figure.

"It's the big smelly ogre from the Undercity!" Minsc roared.

"Who'll turn up next?" Viconia muttered. "Silke? Sarevok? All the Xwarzts we so meticulously slaughtered?"

Tazok, the ogre brigand-leader under the command of the late Sarevok stood there, heavily armored. And whoever armored him, had invested a great deal of money. Thick adamantine plates protected Tazok's chest, while a strong helmet with bullhorns on either sides protected a brain the size of a pea.

"Yes, it be I, Tazok! MWuahah!" he raised as he rose a gigantic sword. "Sarevok took too much for his plate, left us in a bad position. You'll find my new master much smarter, and me much harder to kill! Seems Firkraag has a special treat in store, brought me here just for you. Got a special bug in his craw about seeing you perform."

"Sooo," Laska replied, "How've you been?"

"I've been in pain since you carved through my ribs like it was a roast! Every time I breathe I am reminded of your victory over our glorious plans for the future! But I survived, little elf! I have survived. I have been training this mangled body to fight you again! No other thought or wish occupied me as I prepared for this confrontation! I shall crush you, smash you, crush you..."

"You already mentioned crushing me..." Laska added.

"SHUT UP!" Tazok roared. "I'll rip out your ribcage and make music on your bleeding bones. I'll make a little stew out of your mushy insides and..." the last word that came out of his mouth was sputter of surprise. A crossbow bolt was suddenly lodged in his throat. He clawed at it in surprise, but it had gone through his thick neck like a hot knife through butter. Tazok sank to the floor and died a second time.

In the meantime, all eyes were locked at Jan, who was still holding out his crossbow. "What?" Jan asked. "Ogre stories are boring, you know? Smash, smash. Kill, kill. Always the same..."

"As opposed to turnips and griffins?" Viconia smirked.

"Hey, hey, missy!" Jan added. "Turnips are VERY original, and I've never met one I didn't like. Griffins, well, those are a different thing all together... Actually, I once met..."

"NO stories, Jan," Laska sighed. "There's still a missing partymember we have to find."

"Oh?" Jan said. "Vicky's here. Korgy, Minscy, Dyna, you, me, Khittix...."

"I'm talking about Keldorn," the elf replied.

"Who?" Jan looked puzzled.

"Big guy, human, about this tall, graying, small beard, has a face that looks like he's been attacked by a garden-rake..." the elf summed up.

"Never heard of him," Jan said.

"How," Laska sighed, "do I allow my self to be caught up in your verbal traps again and again, Jan?"

"It's a gift," the gnome grinned.

"Well," Viconia said, while pointing at a gaping black hole giving access to a wide staircase. "Looks like the only way out is down."

And down they went. Slowly stepping down the staircase, they entered a huge cavern under the dungeon-complex they had just so arduously traversed. Unlike the dungeon, this room was spotless, the walls were smooth and the entire cavern was filled with an air of quiet dignity. The ceiling was immensely tall, contained a very familiar gaping hole, and alongside the sides of the slightly narrow hall ran two parapets, each containing a small hanging cage. One contained Taar, the other Keldorn...

Seeing his friends were stepping into the room, Keldorn struggled to get up in the cage to warn them. "Careful!" he rasped through his dry throat. "It's a..."

Before he could speak further, a mage appeared from the bottom of the stairs and closed off the exit with a magical shield. From the shadows stepped chieftain Dig-dag, leader of the Orcish hordes under Firkraag's command. Also, from the other side, the raven-haired elven mercenary who had kidnapped Taar earlier appeared, her longbow at the ready.

"...trap..." Keldorn finished lamely.

"Oy, long-limb!" Korgan shouted. "Ye be restin' while we be working 'ard? HAR HAR!"

But, two enormous glowing eyes stopped Korgan's roaring laughter rather abruptly. The ground shook as a gigantic creature came into sight. A huge head appeared first, narrow and long with horns and a mouth filled with rows of sharp teeth. Two reptilian eyes sparkled in arrogance as the rest of the creature came into view. A huge dragon, its muscles rippling under his red skin, its huge wings folded across his back as it stepped from the shadows. The dragon roared for good measure and folded its neck downward. Most notable about the magnificent creature, however was a long scar across the left side of its body, apparently caused by magical frostbite.

Noticing that his 'guests' were actually staring at his scar rather than his magnificent form, the dragon crankily turned his left side away from the party as he spoke.

"Well, well, here you are...." the dragon spoke in a deep voice.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, big whoop," Laska said. "Look, is Firkraag coming? I have an appointment to break his kneecaps and feed his lungs to a wolf."

"Oh?" the dragon smiled toothily. "But... Firkraag is already here!"

"Is Firkraag behind you, then?" Laska said. "That big fat ass of yours is blocking the view..."

Growing increasingly nervous at Laska's irreverent behaviour, her friends tensed and prepared for a coming battle. Even Korgan remained silent and held on to his axe for dear life.

"I am Firkraag, you idiot!" the dragon roared while the elven mercenary standing beside chuckled briefly.

"Oh?" Laska replied, scratching her head. "Ooooohhhhh," she finally replied through clenched teeth.

"In any case," Firkraag said. "I've had my fun with you. Watching you muddle through my little trickster-maze. But now, well, I've gotten rather bored with you... So, you may all go..."

"What, as easy as that?" Viconia dared to say while the other partymembers were looking at each other.

"Hey, isn't there some sort of law that the heroes must fight the dragon after traversing through his deadly maze?" Jan said. "At least, that's how we did things I was young."

"Don't give him any ideas," Dynaheir snarled.

"Yes, you can go..." the dragon sighed.

Laska looked puzzled, "We can?!"

"Of course..."

"And we can take Keldorn and Taar with us as well?"

"Indeed," Firkraag smiled, "BUT, you'll have to listen to what I have to say first..."

"He's up to something," Viconia whispered from behind Laska, just loud enough for only elven ears to hear. Apparently, Firkraag did not hear Viconia's whisper either.

"Okay, I listen, then I go?"

"Yes," Firkraag sighed. "Were you born stupid or is that just some kind of hobby? Anyway, I suppose you want an explanation?"

"Kinda," Laska muttered. "Oh, I GET IT!" she added. "I'm a Bhaalspawn and you want to use me, test my potential or otherwise demean me in some fashion for your own selfish plan!"

"I couldn't care less about your questionable heritage," the dragon snorted. "I wouldn't have cared if your father was Corellon Larethian himself! It's your mother that interests me, not you or your father..."

"My mother? Leilani Leafwalker?" the tattooed elf replied.

"Yes... Leilani Leafwalker," he spat the name is as it was a curse. "The elven bitch that maimed me in the past. All I wanted were a few maidens from the nearby elven village and that... BITCH not only denied me the purest of sustenances but also almost killed me with her magicks! Me, the great Firkraag defeated by a mere elf!"

"So," Laska smiled. "Mom kicked your ass, didn't she?"

"I roared and attacked! I used all my magics! I swooped over her head, intending to incinerate her!"

"And she didn't even break a sweat?" Laska chuckled, the look on Firkraag's snout being answer enough. "One spell and it was over, right..."

"Shut up, you, you... NOTHING!" Firkraag shouted. "All these years of preparing for a second encounter to CRUSH her into dust were for naught! She is beyond my reach..."

"Yeah," Laska said a little solemnly, "death in childbirth will do that..."

"HAH!" the elven mercenary chuckled. "Have you ever heard of an elf dying in childbirth? How stupid are you? Elven pregnancies and births aren't even painful nor cumbersome..."

"And you know this, how?" Laska retorted.

"I am a mother myself, you dolt!" the elven mercenary replied. "Why do you think I am a sellsword? I don't want my twins to grow up on the streets as I did..."

"Oh, my heart bleeds," Firkraag mocked. "Now be quiet, Irylarr! I was speaking... No, your mother is not dead, Laska. Surprised? No... No, she is on Evermeet. With her normal children, worthy of her attention. A false elf such as yourself is beneath her notice."

"He's trying to get under your skin," Viconia whispered as she noticed her friend was tensing up. "He's lying, I can tell..."

"I had spies and agents keep an eye on her, but they could not follow her to Evermeet, nor can I. So I will get through to her via her bloodline. You... But, dear Laska, I am doing you a favor. Your mother abandoned you and left you with Gorion. You were nothing to her... Nothing more than a freak of nature..."

Firkraag words sliced Laska more than any mere sword could. She stood there, trembling from a mixture of rage and sorrow. Nobody in the party spoke, neither of them, not even Jan, thought this was the time for wisecracks.

The dragon nodded and Chieftain Dig-Dag approached them, holding a small shiny object. It was a glowing sphere, spreading bright red colors through the entire cavern.

"I lured you and your friends here. So deliciously, you have slain the paladins that were sent to kill me instead!" the dragon gloated. "Hah, they underestimated my powers, but I couldn't risk them spilling the beans, so my wizard here," he pointed a claw toward the exit where the wizard stood, "was invisible among you and used the artifact in his hands to cast the spell of 'Temporary Death' on them."

"So, THAT," Viconia snarled, "is why my ritual didn't work! That spell can only be counter-acted with resurrection magics..."

"Correct," Firkraag smiled, "my spies informed me that you were not yet capable of casting that spell... As for this little sphere," he added, "this is a sensory-stone. A little left-over from your mothers trip to the Sigil. It contains a message to you, Laska, in the form of a collection of memories dating from the time you were conceived to the time she left you forever. Your mother wanted Gorion to give you this when he thought you could handle what was stored in this stone. No doubt an explanation of her rejection. Pity Gorion never had the opportunity to show you, and you have no idea how much trouble I went to, to try to get it liberated from the Candlekeep archive. Well, I've had my fun, Laska, and I shall spare you any more suffering. You may leave unhindered..." Firkraag said, smiling as he slowly raised his fore-leg and lowered it again, intending to crush the little stone.

But from the corner of his right eye, he noticed a flash of brilliant blue flying towards him with great speed. It was the last thing he would ever see through his right eye.

The dragon bellowed in agony as Laska flashed across his face and, with a single slash from Ipsiya, put his eye out. The agile elf landed on her feet and performed a swift roll across the floor, avoiding the dragon's paws and scooping up the little stone in mid-roll.

Making use of the confusion, Jan whistled as he stuck out his foot. The wizard, running down the stairs to aid his master, tripped over the foot and bounced off the stairs, eventually landing with a sickening crack.

Firkraag trashed in humiliation and agony as he attempted to make sense of his surroundings. A sudden shrill voice sounded. "A DRAGON! WOOHOO! Kill it before it's gone!" sounded just before he felt a sharp pain enter his upper left hindleg. Unfortunately for the party, the pain sent Firkraag hurtling back to reality as he found a larger bald human gleefully hacking at his leg. Two more, a dwarf and a gnome were approaching fast, while the cleric Viconia and mage Dynaheir remained behind to assault the dragon from a distance. Firkraag knew that Dynaheir's repertoire had almost been exhausted already, so Viconia was the most immediate threat.

The elf's assault had been quick, but Firkraag's consolation is that the attack was as much a surprise to her partymembers than it was to him. But where was the elf? The answer to that question presented itself as he felt a sharp pain between his fore-legs. Instinctively, the dragon took a few steps back. Unfortunately, Dig-Dag was already standing at that spot.

"Enough of this foolishness!" Firkraag roared, and extended his wings. With one, single violent swoop, he tossed his enemies through the room, this time gaining the advantage.

In the meantime, Ilylarr watched the conflict from a distance with interest. The group was fighting very well, but she doubted they could win against Firkraag. Then, she suddenly noticed the Drow running up one of the ramps. Ilylarr notched an arrow and prepared to fire... but then she noticed Firkraag buffetting his wings again and decided against it. Silently, she withdrew to the shadows.

Viconia, in the meantime, ran up the ramp, having noticed a glint of gold in the distance. She knew dragons had a hoard of gold and magical weapons, and with this hair-brained battle Laska had gotten them into, she had to find something to turn the tide.

And she did. She reached a stunningly huge pile of gold coins. Several weapons and armor, magical amulets and ornate artifacts were strewn about, but, strangely enough, the only weapons that were on display were old, worn, plain and used. Then, she realized what they were... Trophies of past victories. And then, she noticed the one weapon that could turn the tide of battle... and what it was meant to do. Unfortunately, the previous owner never got a chance to use it.

Firkraag was winning. He knew it... five adventurers and a spider were constantly driven back. It was time to end it all. But there, from the side emerged the Drow cleric, brandishing a spear. Firkraag chuckled. What could that little Drow do to a magnificent dragon such as himself? Firkraag breathed deeply, intending to incinerate the little upstart.

It was then that Viconia struck. Just as the fireball formed in Firkraag's mouth, Viconia threw the spear with deadly accuracy and it flew straight in the dragon's open mouth.

The spear was made out of lead.

The weapon melted as if in a blast-furnace, and the molten red-hot substance seared into Firkraag's throat all the way to the creature's sensitive stomach. Roaring in extreme agony, the dragon collapsed coughing. He was barely conscious as Laska jumped from the parapet onto the back of his neck, turned Ipsiya downward and drove the dainty moonblade through his skull...

"Good fight, Laska," Korgan said.

"Boo loved it!" Minsc said.

"We had fun!" Jan added.

"YOU IDIOT!" Viconia screeched. "DON'T YOU EVER THINK?! WE WERE IN NO CONDITION TO FIGHT A DRAGON!"

"Viconia was right," Keldorn said, while Laska continued scooping big parts of the hoard in his bag of holding. "Though I am very pleased with the end-result, it was very reckless."

"Ach, who be caring?! We be swimmin' in gold! HAR HAR!" Korgan roared.

Then, a glint in the corner caught the eye of Keldorn, who gasped as he recognized the ornate hilt of a legendary sword. "Dear Torm," he said, "that is Carsomyr!"

"You've got a what now?" Laska asked as Keldorn reverently rose the sword from the pile of gold.

'*Hubba, hubba!*' Ipsiya squealed.

"Hey!" Lilarcor protested. "What's he got that I don't have?"

'*If you have a few days, I'll give you a list,*' Ipsiya chuckled.

"A powerful knight was given the honor of wielding this powerful weapon," Keldorn smiled. "It was lost when she rode to battle against, well, a dragon..."

"This one, no doubt," Dynaheir nodded.

"Why don't you use it, Keldorn?" Laska said. "I mean, you saw it first..."

"Oh, I couldn't!" Keldorn looked horrified. "I am not worthy of wielding such a weapon..." Fortunately, the sword disagreed and glowed briefly to voice its protest.

"Such an honor..." the aged paladin all but gasped.

"What's that sound?" Viconia broke in.

Everybody took a moment to listen. A low rumble, combined with a sudden tremor shook the entire cavern.

"That wasn't normal," Laska said.

"Fools!" the elven mercenary Irylarr shouted from the site where Firkraag's body lay. "Firkraag sabotaged the dungeons! He had his orcs dig out to an underground stream and magically enchanted a barrier which would be lifted only when he would die."

"Oh, no," the young boy Taar responded, "we... we are going to die?" Immediately, his gaze upon Laska's face instantly lowered. "Say, if we are going to die anyway, can I see you naked?" he said with a hopeful smile.

"Is that all you ever think about?" Laska sighed. "And no. There's only one person who can legally see me naked and she's not here at the moment..."

"Oh, no," Viconia chuckled. "You had to say 'she', didn't you?"

Too late, Laska realized her mistake. Poor Taar was literally drooling now...

"Oy, lads and lassies!" Korgan shouted. "Why donnae we be escapin' by climbin' up the rope-ladder that is being so conveniently lowered through that dank hole in the middle o'the ceilin'..."

Not even thinking twice, the party, Taar and Irylarr in tow, clambered up the rope-ladder with amazing speed. Laska, however, glanced over at Firkraag's body, already picked clean of the strongest scales, and she got a wicked idea. Taking her bag of holding, she stretched the magics of the bag to the limits...

The ones who had rescued Laska's party were no less than the hobgoblin and the little troll the elf had rescued earlier. After returning the favor, the two took off for places unknown. Keldorn and Laska were the first to step out of the cavern.

"Ah, my friend," Keldorn sighed. "After coming out of a dungeon after a perilous adventure, being greeted by the warm morning sun, is always the best part of the experience..."

"What are you talking about?" Laska snorted. "You were captured before you were even IN the dungeon. And you didn't have a fifteen year-old staring at your chest all the time. I swear, he was constantly staring down my cleavage while he was climbing up that rope-ladder."

"Ah, he is young," Keldorn smiled.

"Say," Keldorn said as he saw a stack of freshly killed werewolves lying gathered on top of one of the rocky plateaus near the cave. "Those werewolves weren't dead when we arrived."

"Nor were the paladins wearing clanky armors who are now lamely trying to hide themselves in the bushes behind the werewolves," Laska said, drawing her swords.

Knowing they had been discovered, a group of ten heavily armored paladins emerged from their hiding places. They all had a hard look upon their faces, and were very much battle ready. Keldorn matched the hard look and moved to stand between the elf and the paladins to try to avoid a premature fight. But all hope of that was shot to the Abyss when Keldorn noticed who the leader of this squad was : Noneother than Sir Roghyt Dawn, a paladin whom Keldorn had once relieved of his command for reckless, incompetent behavior, and who had never forgiven the aged paladin for it.

"Keldorn," Sir Dawn grinned. "You have no idea how much I have been looking forward to this, Keldorn. Ahum, for your crimes against the Order, I, Sir Dawn, sentence you and your co-conspirators to death! ATT..."

"BY HELM!" was shouted from the entrance to the cave by a very familiar voice. Sir Ajantis and his four friends were standing there, looking very much alive, the sun painfully reflecting off their armors.

"You are alive!" one of the paladins of the deathsquad smiled broadly.

"NO!" Sir Dawn almost cried. "This can't be! Keldorn is supposed to die!"

"We were never truly dead, Sir Dawn," Ajantis said.

"Viconia, that's our cleric, found a resurrection-scroll on the dragon's hoard," Laska said, "and used a Drow artifact to counteract the 'Temporary Death'-spell he had put on them. Your paladins are alive and well..."

"NO!" Sir Dawn wailed again and stamped his foot down like an spoiled child. "No, no, no, no, no! I have come to kill Keldorn, and Keldorn shall die this day!"

"By Helm's beard, you shall not!" Ajantis snarled. "Keldorn is a man of honor and virtue. Do not harm him, lest Helm smites ye dead!"

"NO!" Sir Dawn screamed again and rose his sword high, intending to strike. Before he could do so, however, a jet of water burst from the cavern, miraculously only hitting Sir Dawn.

"Helm works fast these days," Jan muttered as the screaming paladin was being shot towards the edge of the Windspear Plateau, sending him screaming off into the depths below. "Faster than my uncle 'Lazybones' Jansen in any case..."

"Gee, I hope he can avoid those sharp, jagged rocks," Laska muttered. "OUCH, guess not..."

"So we are done here?" Keldorn asked. "Good, let's eat..."

"Not yet!" shouted Ilylarr, her bow raised. "I'm not leaving before I get the money Firkraag owed me..."

"Here," Laska said, tossing Ilylarr the bag of gold containing the majority of the golden coins she had scooped up before the lair flooded. "Buy yourself a new personality... and give the rest to your kids."

Ilylarr smiled briefly before stalking off.

After a lively celebration at the Windspear village, the party was invited by a grateful lord Windspear to celebrate the victory. The only incident was Laska smacking Taar upside the head for copping a feel, but the next day, the party joined the paladins back to Athkatla. Once there, Laska took a certain item she had picked up to the local Order leatherworker and returned to her home with her trophy.

After having some of the Jansens over to rework a small part of the ceiling to make room for the jutting horns, the stuffed head of Firkraag was hung over the mantle between the two staircases in the back of her lovely home.

"Beautiful," Laska smiled.

"COOL!" Risa, Becky and Jaella raved at the same time.

"It's rather huge," Viconia said, noting that the horns could barely be seen thought the reworked ceiling, and that the head was sticking out quite a bit.

"Nonsense!" Laska smiled. "Every home should have a dragonhead. Any dork can kill a moose, but a dragon? That's different."

"Was he big and mean?" Risa asked looking at the slightly opened mouth to show off the teeth. "Like in the stories?"

"Nah, he be a pussycat, really," Korgan laughed.

"Excuse me," Laska smiled, "but there's one thing I still have to do."

"No, no, no!" Rose shouted at a nobleman fop addressing her. "I am no longer doing that! Take your money and go!"

"But, dearrie," the nobleman smiled, "I shall pay you well. My wife will be gone all week and both my mistresses have gone to Trademeet for the festival. A man has his needs. And certainly when he spots a lovely elven courtesan like yourself."

"It's worse enough that I'm badgered by the likes of you in front of my own home!" Rose snarled.

"What's going on here?" a third voice, another female snarled. The nobleman turned and smiled broadly.

"My, my, my!" he said. "A real elf! I'll pay you both handsomely for your time. Please, let us go to my estate to..." Two seconds later, the nobleman lay unconscious on the ground with two black eyes.

"Laska!" Rose smiled and flew in her lover's arms. "I knew you'd come back alive," Rose smiled after a brief kiss. "Firkraag?" she asked.

"His head is mounted on my wall," Laska smiled, but noticing Rose's odd look, she added an 'I'll explain later'. "So, what was his game?" the tattooed elf sneered at the noble.

"Terrible," Rose said. "Ever since I moved into Isaea Roenall's house, I've been surrounded by nobles who see me as a lust-object. I've had quite enough of it, really. But enough about that," she smiled. "Now come in and tell me all about your adventure."