Laska lay in her bed, dawn just having broke. For the second night in a row, she had gotten very little sleep, and spent a lot of time thinking. Staring open-eyed at the ceiling of her bedroom, counting the little bumps in the rough plaster, she decided she just had to look one more time...

Shifting on her side, she carefully opened the drawer in her nightstand... and pulled out the letter the assassin Dekaras had so conveniently glued to the bottom of the letter box. This would be the twelfth time she would read it. Gently, she removed the parchment from the envelope and glanced at Imoen's delicate calligraphy.

Dear, lovely, gorgeous, kind and sugar sweet sister Laska,

Okay, now that I've made you gag, it's time to get started on this letter, don't you think?

First of all, I'm fine... Really, I'm fine... Wish you were here.

Geez, that's a really lame beginning for a letter, isn't it? Well, I'm here at a place called the Asylum, a house for the 'magically deviant', as those Cowlies are so fond of saying. It's not as bad as it sounds, though. I can still train magicks and I've even learned a lot of new spells! Also, you'll be glad to know my cooking-skills have improved as well. There's an elven mage called Dradeel who's been a great teacher for me in both fields. But this could have been Elysium itself, and I'd still feel trapped and lonely. I miss you, sis, and all our friends. Please come to get me quickly!

How did I sent you this letter? Well, I made a friend among the Cowled Wizards here. And before you start singing 'Immy has a boyfriend' over and over again in front of the entire gathered keep, no, he's just a friend! He agreed to smuggle out this letter and give it to you.

Irenicus... he's here too... He's safely locked away, though, in the deepest dungeon of this place. But even though everybody keeps saying he'll never get to me, it's very scary to know that he might be walking around under my feet as I write this letter.

I'm fine, Laska... But please, please... Come and get me quickly. You know I don't like to cooped up in the same place for so long, and I can only take my sanity-test if I've been here for six months at least...

I love you, sis,

Imoen

"Love," Rose stirred, and softly caressed Laska's arm with the back of her hand. "Don't torture yourself like this anymore..."

"They put her in an Asylum, Rose," Laska replied, closing her eyes while her lover tried to comfort her by kissing her shoulder. "Some gods-be-damned prison!"

"Calm down, love," Rose stressed again, reminding Laska of what had happened when the elf first read the letter. How she wanted to storm the Government Building and kill every wizard in her path until they would consent to freeing Imoen. It had taken the collective strength of Keldorn, Minsc and Korgan to keep her from running out the door, combined with the reasoning power of Viconia and Dynaheir. Of course, Jan offering to sell tickets to onlookers to make a fortune did not help one bit.

Finally, it were Rose, Risa and Becky who managed to calm down the stricken elf. But Laska hadn't been the same ever since the event.

"You really should eat something today," Rose tried.

"How can I eat? How can I sleep in this soft bed with you? How can I just sit here and laze about while my sister ROTS in that godsdamned prison?!" Laska muttered in her pillow, not willing to show Rose the guilt in her eyes.

"She told you herself that she is fine," Rose said, pressing her cheek against that of her lover. "You won't help anyone by starving yourself..."

Laska pulled from Rose's embrace and slipped out of bed, not bothering to cover herself. "I have to do some work-outs," she bluntly stated. "Irenicus is there too... If I am to kill the bugger, I need every ounce of strength I can get..."

"Okay," Rose replied, slipping out of bed as well and donning a robe. "I'll bring you some food later..." she smiled sadly as she opened the door and slipped into the dining-hall. In the meantime, the tattooed elf stepped over to a metal bar fastened to the wall, flexed her slight musculature and jumped up, grabbing the bar. Her own weight was slight, but just enough to secure a good work-out. Hanging from the bar, she pulled herself up and down, her thoughts drifting to the past.

Raising her sword, the fierce elven warrior attacked the orcish overlord with fervor. The overlord was bigger, stronger and breathed flames taller than she herself was! But the elven warrior princess never faltered, and stabbed, cut, parried and finally slammed her sword into the belly of the creature, making his last night's dinner of pea-and-carrot-soup spill all over the floor!

"Who are you fighting?" the elven warrior princess heard a light giggle from behind, disturbing her illusion. "And why is your sword made of wood?"

The lean and tall elven girl, fourteen years of age, glanced over to see her beloved foster-father Gorion standing there, as always with a ready smile. But there was someone else there... A tiny girl, only ten years of age, was hiding behind Gorion's leg, sometimes peeking at her. She was a small girl, but very lean, and was wearing a constant smile on her cherubic little face while a shaggy mop of reddish hair graced the top of her head.

"You have funny ears!" the girl finally managed to say.

"This is Imoen," Gorion smiled. "And this is Laska. Laska, Imoen will be living with us from now on."

"Hi," Laska greeted, while Imoen slowly crept away from Gorion and stepped out into the open.

"Be nice to her," Gorion said, having cast a spell so that he could choose if his speech could only be heard by elven ears. "She's just lost both her parents..."

Laska nodded, while Imoen regarded the little wooden sword. "Hey," Laska spoke, "wanna be friends?"

"Sure!" Imoen giggled, while in the background, Ulraunt watched the two children with baleful eyes.

Laska chuckled in spite of herself. But she soon resumed her work-out.

"Ooooh!" was the exclamation of both children as they glanced at their new room : The uppermost tower of Candlekeep. No more sleeping above the stables for either of them!

It was a large round room accessible from the top-floor of the citadel. It contained a stacked bunk, several dressers and toy chests, as well as a carpeted floor. A bookcase and two desks stood in one of the corners for studying... But studying was the last thing on their mind right now.

"Look at that view!" Laska smiled.

"Sure," Imoen replied, "rub it in that you see better than I do... But I CALL THE TOP BUNK!"

"What?!" Laska said, ripping herself away from the view. "But I wanted the top bunk!"

"Sorry, called it!" Imoen grinned.

"But I wasn't ready!"

"Sorry, called it," Imoen retorted.

"Oh... oh, yeah?!" Laska replied.

"Yeah!"

"Well... you got stupid hair!" Laska retorted.

"Oh, yeah?!" Imoen play-snarled, "well, you have stupid ears!"

"You have crooked teeth!"

"You walk like a duck!"

"You walk like mule!"

"You have stupid eyes!"

"Well, you have a FAT BUTT!"

"You have spindly arms!"

"Oh, yeah, well... well... well," Laska said, having trouble coming up with a suitable insult. "Well, you have spindly arms!"

"What?" Imoen chuckled. "Are you repeating everything I say now?"

"What?" Laska chuckled in return. "Are you repeating everything I say now?"

"That is SO lame," Imoen pouted.

"That is SO lame," Laska pouted in retort.

"Oh, well Laska is an idiot..." Imoen giggled.

"Oh, well Laska is an idiot... HEY!" the elven girl replied sharply.

"I got the bunk!" Imoen giggled and jumped on top of the bed.

"Hey!" Laska shouted and started pulling on Imoen's belt in an attempt to pull her down from the bunk.

"OUCHIE!" Imoen suddenly shouted, and pulled her bleeding finger back from a nail sticking out of the sideboard. "I hurt myself," she sniffed.

"It's okay," Laska said. "Hey, wait!" she smiled, then bit on her lip and pressed her finger against the nail until she drew blood as well. "Here," she said, took Imoen's bleeding finger and pressed her own against it. "Here," the elf smiled. "We are now sisters."

Imoen merely smiled, still sniffing.

"And sisters gotta share everything!" Laska giggled.

"I get the top bunk!"

"No, I get it!"

Again, Laska chuckled as she continued her work-out. Gorion had finally settled the argument by decreeing they should switch bunks every day. Still, they had a lot of fun during their childhood.

Swiftly and silently, Imoen crept up to the tincan standing in the garden in front of the library. This paladin, an escort to a visiting sage, had been waiting outside all day now, never taking off his Full Plate Mail. Inside Imoen's pouch was a stunned wasp, which she had captured only a few minutes ago using a blowpipe filled with insect repellant.

Mister Tincan had been accusing Imoen and Laska of being 'foul and wicked creatures'. Their crime : giggling within earshot of a temple... As if a temple had ears!

In the meantime Laska was distracting the paladin by asking him all kind of questions about chastisement.

"Well, the best way is to use a cat o'nine tails dipped in salty water. Agony ensures a cleansing of the body, after all," the tincan was saying.

Meanwhile, Imoen had crept up to the paladin and put the wasp near one of the seams of his armor. As expected, the cold steel awakened the wasp and it slowly crept through the seam. Giving Laska a thumbs up, Imoen quickly ran from the scene. Laska followed her, leaving a puzzled paladin behind.

But soon enough, the fun began. While the girls were watching from behind a rosebush, the paladin suddenly twitched a leg. Then his arms... Then both his arms and legs. The paladin was suddenly prancing and flailing his limbs wildly, dancing through the garden like a lumbering oaf, only to end up lying on the floor unconscious after colliding with a tree with a resounding 'CLANK'.

A monk who had witnessed the event ran towards the paladin and removed the helmet. A lone wasp came flying out and resumed his lazying about in the garden.

In the meantime, the two girls were belly laughing and rolling on the floor... until they heard an 'ahum' from behind and saw Gorion looking down upon them.

Laska chuckled once more. Oh, they had gotten into so much trouble for that prank, but it was worth it... But there was a time they had gotten into more trouble even...

"No running in the hallways!" a monk shouted after the two girls as they ran through the bookcases of Candlekeep, giggling all the way, disturbing the serenity of the Great Library.

"TAG!" Laska shouted as she caught up with Imoen. "You're it!"

"No fair!" Imoen pouted as they stood between two stacks. "I have shorter legs that you have!"

"It's just a game, Im, and," but Laska caught on too late to Imoen's wicked scheme. Instead of pouting, the little rogue shot forward, intending to tag Laska once more. But she failed. Instead, Laska jumped away and collided with one of the stacks... which started to topple. It finally fell, dragging its neighbor with it. The stacks fell like domino stones, and in the end, while she dust settled, books, fallen stacks and stricken monks were all which was left...

The two girls looked at each other for a moment. "RUN!" they shouted at the same time.

Laska raised her chin to the bar and lowered herself again without much effort. She had been doing this ever since she was old enough to hold a real sword and wear real armor. To the uninitiated, armor looks flexible and light, while in reality, it is heavy and cumbersome. Even the chainmail which Laska so praised had its full weight concentrated on the elf's shoulders, so without her great strength, she would not have been able to wear it for more than a few hours. At this point, a long day of travel or dungeon-romping, thus keeping on the chainmail for long periods of time, would not bother her in the slightest... but it had taken her years of practise and working-out to be able to do so.

The little elf, now having grown quite a bit taller, staggered out of bed, feeling very much fortunate that she had been given the lower bunk today. Her head felt like it was about to split in two, and, when the morning sun hit her eyes, she just wanted to die on the spot. Clenching her eyes shut, she strolled over to the window, poked her head-out and let her long dark hair flap in the wind as she kept her eyes downcast. The fresh air did give her some comfort, though...

From the groaning coming from the bunk behind her, it seemed her sister was in a similar state. Glancing down at the three empty bottles at her feet, she swiftly kicked one away in anger. Yesterday, Imoen had come back from her chores at Winthrop's Inn and after liberating several bottles of Evermead from the Inn's stores. They had wanted to find out why the grown-ups liked this stuff so much...

And they did... The drink tasted better and better as time past and... things got a little hazy after that.

"Gods, this hurts," Imoen muttered into this pillow.

"I am," Laska started, "NEVER touching that stuff EVER again!"

'Of course, that's not how it turned out,' Laska thought to herself with a sardonic grin as she continued her work-out. 'Hmmm, I could use a sip right about now,' she concluded, but was unwilling to break off her work-out.

"Errrm, Corellon? Err, hi!" Laska muttered semi-reverently as she was kneeling on top of a grassy knoll in the garden, a few hours before the keep would be bustling with life. "This is, ummm, my first prayer... ever, and, well, seeing as you're supposed to be the god of elves and all, I was wondering if you could, you know? Help me out and stuff..."

Laska shifted uncomfortably, hoping she would not been seen or heard by anyone. "Well, Corellon, I, well, it's like this you see... Errr, let me just put it... bluntly... Corellon, I really, really, REALLY WANT BREASTS!"

Sighing now that her wish was finally out, she shifted again and continued chatting to the God of all elves. "I mean, my sister is already developing curves and I'm still as flat as a pancake. And I'm nineteen years old and she is only fifteen! Shouldn't I have at least something too by now? Err, well, Corellon, I have some coins here. There are twelve, you can count them if you want. They're all yours if you help me out... I could have had more if I hadn't lost that bet with Imoen about how many sling-bullets I could put in my mouth... Errr, thanks," Laska concluded, bowing to the grassy knoll and leaving the coins there for the god of elves.

'Well, it worked,' Laska smiled as she looked down at her impressive physique. Only a few weeks later, Laska's body had started to blossom into womanhood, but whether it was because of the prayer or not, she never found out. In fact, after reading more and more about elves and their customs, it had become more and more apparent that there was something deeply wrong with her. She has been physically maturing about ten years ahead of time, though she did not know it then. But nothing made that so apparent as that fateful day...

"It's NOT doing anything!" Laska snarled as she glanced at the glass ball in front of her. "Not a bloody thing!" Laska screeched.

But next to her, Imoen had been staring intently at her glass ball, giggling whenever the ball turned a different color.

Gorion, in the meantime, was sitting opposite to the girls as they performed a simple test to determine magical aptitude. The objective was to simply gaze into the ball to see if there was any innate talent for the Arts Magicka. Glancing next to her, Laska almost turned green in envy when Imoen was already showing great promise. Not only was she able to make the magically sensitive object glow with color, but she could also change the color of the ball at will. But her own ball wasn't doing anything. Nothing... It just sat there as useless glass ball...

"This stupid ball is broken," Laska finally concluded.

"No, it isn't" Imoen said cheerfully, not realizing her sister's distress, and glanced at Laska's ball, making it glow as well.

"Why won't it work for ME?!" the young elf snarled in utter frustration.

Gorion stared at Laska with deep concern. Unbeknowst by the Laska, he knew of the taint inside of the young elf, of the hole in her elven spirit. But he never would have suspected her to have no control of magic at all because of this. An elf, a creature born from magic, should have been able to make the magical orb glow with a simple glance. But it would do nothing for Laska. Despite her rich magical family-history, Laska was not able to control the flow of magic in and around her body, not even instinctively...

Gorion was interrupted from his musings by the sound of glass shattering against the stone wall of the keep, while the young elf strode away from the table where they were sitting, shouting : 'What the bloody hell is wrong with me?!' as she walked away.

Gorion sighed. The aged sage had been noticing the mounting frustration within the young elf for the past year... And he knew that such frustrations would lead a person to... take the simplest path in life. Something that wasn't an option for Laska, if she was to survive the coming turmoil.

He decided she needed someone of her own race to talk to... Being the lone elf in Candlekeep must have been very difficult until this point. It was time for him to contact the Harpers.

'Stupid magic-test' Laska thought wryly. 'Well, who needs magic anyway. There's nothing that can defeat a good sword. I'd like to see a wizard casting a spell while my sword it sticking though his ribcage. Who needs that stupid magic anyway,' she sighed bitterly and continued her work-out.

Imoen skipped a stone across the surface of the pond in front of the garden as the first rays of the sun reached the towers of Candlekeep. Ever since this Anadialle Silverleaf had come to Candlekeep six months ago, she felt she had been losing her best friend and sister. Laska was mostly too busy to hang out with her and spent way too much time with this strange elf. Anadialle had been introducing Laska to elven literature, helped her to better grasp the elven tongue and had been regaling her with all manner of elven lore. And, unfortunately, Laska was loving every minute of it... And the young elf rarely had time to even talk to her anymore.

Imoen found the whole affair rather suspicious. Gorion had told her the elven lady, a Bladesinger from Silverymoon, had come to study texts on the ruin of Myth Drannor, but Imoen had never seen the elven lady actually ENTER the library. Mostly, when she wasn't hanging around Laska, she stayed inside of the Inn.

Now, she was giving Laska sword-fighting lessons and even went as far as teaching her Bladesinger moves. Anadialle and Laska took long and arduous nature-hikes outside of Candlekeep... and no matter how much Imoen wanted to go with them, Anadialle would not allow it.

But, at least Anadialle would be leaving... Laska would return from the hike alone today.

And she did... Two hours later, well into the morn, the portcullis of the main gate opened, and in strolled Laska. Imoen had half expected Laska to be very sad, but for some reason, the young elf seemed to be walking on air, smiling contently.

"Hi!" Imoen greeted.

"Immy," Laska said, unexpectedly embracing the young human. "I've missed you..."

"Really?" Imoen replied. "Is Anadielle?"

"Gone," Laska sighed. "She told me she had taught me all she could teach me, and that it was time to go..."

"Hey, Las," Imoen asked. "Wanna hang?"

"Sure."

Laska's thoughts drifted to Anadialle, to her kind piercing green eyes and her ready smile. She had never seen or heard from her again, and probably never would, but she would always remember her fondly.

By now, Laska's work-out was taking its toll. Beads of sweat ran across her face and her entire body glistened in the sunlight as her tiring body responded to the elf's devotion to honing her skills.

Imoen hid in a dark corner of the inn. It was late at night, and most of the patrons, including Winthrop, had already turned in for the night. She had been woken up by Laska slipping from the top bunk and leaving their room silently. Imoen would never have woken up, if the elf hadn't tripped over an old teddybear and cursed softly, yet loudly enough to wake her sister.

Imoen had followed her sister in the darkness, and she went into the inn and up the stairs. And, right now, Imoen was debating whether she should follow or not. Eventually, though, curiosity put too much pressure on the young rogue to resist. Imoen crept through the shadows and went upstairs.

The top floor was dark, for the most part, though the flicker of a candle could be seen through the cracks under one of the doors. Approaching this door, she could already hear the labored breaths of two people. Gazing through the keyhole, Imoen saw her sister and one of the half-elven guards of a visiting sorcerer... in bed... and neither of them was wearing any clothes.

As soon as Imoen realized just what exactly was going on, her mouth formed a perfect round circle of surprise... and she sped down the stairs.

"Done!" Laska smiled. "But it will never happen!"

"Love?" sounded the voice of Rose as Laska opened her eyes. The beautiful half-elf was standing in front of her, carrying a tray filled with fresh rye bread and honeyed tea.

'Well, that's ten coins earned for you, Immy,' Laska chuckled inwardly.

"Eat," was Rose's simple command as she put the tray on a nearby table and strolled back to the exercising elf.

"When my work-out is finished, Rose," Laska replied soflty as she continued raising her sweaty body up and down.

Rose was unrelenting, however, and placed her hands on her hips in a defiant gesture. "Tell you what," she smiled. "If I can get you down from there, you'll eat the entire tray."

Thinking victory to be easy, Laska complied with a grin. "Deal..."

Immediately, Rose removed two chainmail boots from the dresser and quickly slipped them on Laska's feet, strapping them carefully in place.

In a taunting fashion, Laska increased the pace of her work-out. "No sweat."

"I beg to differ," Rose said and ran her hand over Laska's glistening bicep. Without warning, the half-elf jumped on her back and clasped her arms around her neck, just above the shoulders. "How's that?" the half-elf chuckled.

"You're feather-light," Laska grinned and continued her work-out.

Then, Rose started to kiss the elf's neck, slowly moving up to her ear.

"This... isn't... doing... a... thing," the elf gasped under the erotic onslaught, having to give up her work-out completely, just barely being able to hang on to the metal bar.

Rose grinned and continued, but just as she had started nibbling on the elf's earlobe, both lovers dropped to the floor. While both giggling lovers lay in a confused heap, Rose untangled herself and picked up the tray.

"Eat," she smiled. "You won't do yourself, your friends or Imoen any good by starving yourself..."

"Yes, ma'am," Laska chuckled, picked herself up from the floor and popped a piece of fresh ryebread in her mouth... She concluded, she WAS actually quite hungry, finished the meal in record time, wrapped a rob around her body and went to see Lasalla for extras in the kitchen.