Satisfied, Imoen glanced at the ingredients lying on the table. Fresh flour, assorted vegetables, cooking oil, several fresh chickens and, the crown of her achievement, a wild boar. After a month of lobbying, begging, pleading, threatening, kicking, screaming, joking, ridiculing, and battering her eyelashes, the little pink-haired mage had managed to convince Wanev to requisition these foodstuffs so that she, Dradeel and several other mages could cook themselves a wonderful meal.

The staff of the Asylum had apparently decided that cooking would distract the mages trapped here from any violent thoughts, so now, they were standing in Dradeel's kitchen, getting ready to get to work.

"Have you done any... BAD DOG!.... cooking before, Imoen, I SAID BAD DOG!" Dradeel said to Imoen, while trying to get rid of an invisible werewolf at the same time.

"Well, I usually did all the cooking for my party when we were still on the road," Imoen smiled. "But I started cooking back at Candlekeep when I was fifteen. I found this lovely little cookbook and tried making some of the recipes at the local inn with my sister, you know. But it didn't... go exactly as planned..."

"How so?" the halfling Tommy Gunn, a mage wearing a robe with dragon-figures stitched all over it, spoke up.

"Well, let's just say that I'm glad my sister's eyebrows grew back a week later... but it took another few weeks for her to talk to me without glaring whenever I glanced at her eyebrows," Imoen grimaced.

"Shall we begin then?" Tommy Gunn grinned. "My draconic belly aches for sustenance! If I have to wait any longer, I shall have to contend with eating everyone here! Mwuhahahahaha!"

Imoen snickered at Tommy's words. He was a new inmate, a halfling who apparently got it in his head that he was, in fact, an ancient red wyrm whose spell backfired and was now trapped in his current tiny hobbit-form.

"Tiax rules all!" the mad gnome snarled at the others. "When I rule, I shall have my cooks whipped when they make me a feast fit for the god-king of the Realms! And I shall outlaw veggies! They get stuck between your teeth and crunch defiantly whenever you chew on them! Instead of eating, veggies shall be used for firewood!"

"Keep the dream alive, Tiax," Imoen chuckled, having long ago stopped taking the mad gnome seriously.

"Okay," Imoen said. "Any ideas for an starter?"

"I know! BAD DOG!" he said, kicking away an invisible werewolf. "How about some refreshing monkeyballs?"

"Well, we'd have to make some dough and pat..."

"Dough?" Dradeel replied. "We don't need any BAD DOG, BACK WITH YOU dough. You take one monkey, remove all the fur and skin, and strip the meat off..."

"Okay, okay, eeeeeeewwwww," Imoen said, crinkling her nose in a grimace of disgust. "Let's leave the primates alone, shall we?"

"Well, if you feel that's BAD DOGGIE! PLAY DEAD! necessary," Dradeel said.

"I was thinking that we start with vegetable soup, then follow with bread and chicken legs and close with some fresh pig!" Imoen said, licking her lips in anticipation.

Tommy chose that exact moment to mock-roar. "Oh, yes! Good roasted meat! Ah, now if only I could get my powerful draconic stomach to work on a lovely virgin, ahhh, bliss..."

"Errr, yes," Imoen shook her head. "Shall we get started?"

Immediately, the four mages got to work. Imoen summoned a Mordenkainen's blade to nicely cut up the vegetables, while Tommy used his magic to levitate and pour the gigantic bag of flour into a bowl with some water. Then, using his 'draconic might', the halfling motioned the spoon to stir the forming dough in the bowl.

Then, it was Imoen's turn to shine. After casting dimension door to transport the vegetables into a gigantic pot of water, Imoen tossed a fireball under the oven to get the soup stewing nicely.

Dradeel used that time cast his own spell. A huge spectral hand formed above the dough and grasped it firmly, finally letting the dough flow out through its fingers. Then, the splat of dough was chopped into bits by the magical blade still under Imoen's control. After that, Tommy levitated the lumps of dough and allowed them to slowly spin mid-air while Imoen used a continuous Agannazar's scorcher fired between the lumps to slowly roast the dough-lumps. Eventually, Tommy, feeling very satisfied with himself, allowed the newly baked bread to float down into a neatly prepared basket.

Imoen smiled and congratulated her friends for their first success. "Heads up, guys!" Imoen smiled as she summoned a Lesser Fire Elemental.

"Chickens BAD DOG! PLAY DEAD! now?" Dradeel asked. So far, Imoen had yet to pry the elven mage's story from him, but apparently, he had been trapped on an island filled with werewolves until some kind of civil war broke out between the wolves and he had managed to escape somehow... though not with his mind intact.

"Yep," Imoen smiled. "Okay, flamey, it's your turn."

"Flamey?!" Tommy screamed. "FLAMEY?! Was that some kind of insult? If I still could reconstitute my dragon-form, I would EAT you whole, you know?!"

"Calm down, Tommy," Imoen chuckled, wondering how Tommy could be so sweet and halfling like at one moment, and so harsh and draconic the next. The pink-haired mage, however, couldn't help but consider both incarnations were inherently cute. "I meant the Fire elemental, of course," she said, pointing at the tiny figure resembling a burning man.

The elemental got to work, took out a six-foot long spit and shoved it through the chickens. After Dradeel had summoned a skeleton to baste the chicken which cooking oil, the fire elemental slowly started to turn the spit while the three mages used Burning Hands to cook the chickens. A few minutes later, six chickens floated through the air and landed in a neat row next to the bread.

"This is going great!" Imoen smiled happily. This was going to be a feast that would be remembered for a long time.

And it would have been... if Tiax had not gotten in the way. The mad cleric was charged with cooking the boar... "Tiax rules all and you will listen to his divine commands," Tiax shouted at the dead boar. "By rule of Cyric, I demand you, boar to FRY!!!"

The boar, being headless, gutless and dead, of course did not respond.

"Do you deny my sovereign rule, ye fleshy pig?" Tiax shouted. "Lesser meat than you has prayed for mercy at my gnomish feet!"

Again, the boar did not respond.

"You remain SILENT?!" Tiax roared, "How can you deny this simple truth?! I am destined for greatness, while your ultimate destiny shall be the bottom of the latrine of the planes!"

Again, the boar remained silent.

"DIE, then fool! DIE!"

"Tiax, no!" Imoen tried to shout, but it was too late. A gigantic column of flame descended upon the hapless meat, incinerating it on the spot. As Imoen stared down sadly at the mostly blackened boar, sadness made way for ire.

"Now, now, Imoen," Tiax said as the pink-haired fury advanced on him. "Imoen, I command you to not advance on me! Errr, please?!"

Imoen growled in response. "You've just DESTROYED our main course!"

"Now, errr, you cannot touch me! We can only use magic to prepare the food! It's in the rules... Decreed by CYRIC himself, so you don't want to make him angry..." Tiax gulped.

"I made the rules, Tiax," Imoen snarled. "And it only applies to handling the food..."

"Tiax demands to be let down!" the gnome snarled as he was hanging from a coat hanger in the hallway from his underwear. "You shall curse the day you were born, pink-hair! Ouch," he muttered to himself. "My britches are all wedge-like now..."

But back in the kitchen, three mages sat sighing on the floor, defeated.

"What are we going to do now?" Imoen sighed while tossing dates through a small hoop connected to the wall.

"Well, we could always cook Tiax," Tommy offered. "Gnome is good, but they are hardly filling... In dragon form, I could eat a whole village and still be hungry..."

"Tommy," Dradeel snapped, "BAD DOG! You're a halfling. You've always BEEN a halfling, you will always BE a halfling. You never BAD DOG! were a dragon and you never will be!"

Tommy looked up at Dradeel, looking ready to burst out in tears. "Oh... oh, yeah?! Well, I don't see any dogs here either, big-ears!"

"Guys, guys!" Imoen interrupted. "This is getting us nowhere fast..."

"I have an idea!" Dradeel suddenly said, standing up. "Why don't we summon an animal here? We could slaughter it and cook it!"

"But... summoned animals return to the wild after a while, don't they?" Imoen suggested.

"That just means we'll have to eat fast," Tommy grinned. "Come on, let's go for it..."

Dradeel waved his arms and, soon enough, a brilliant light descended from the ceiling, depositing the summoned creature.

"Dradeel?" Imoen said.

"Yes?" the elf replied as the creature lovingly stepped towards the summoners.

"That's a dire spider," the pink-haired mage giggled.

"So?" Dradeel replied.

"We can't eat spider!" Tommy shook his head. "Spider always gives me gas!"

"Let me try," Imoen said after unsummoning the cute spider and waved her hands in arcane gestures. And, soon enough, another creature was summoned.

"A dire boar!" Tommy licked his lips. "That's even bigger that our other pig! Go on, let's kill it!"

The boar simply stood there, staring at the summoners. Imoen was the first to step forward to look the creature in the eyes. "Hi there," Imoen cooed, "how are you doing?"

The boar sniffed and grunted in response. To Imoen, the gigantic boar looked... really sweet.

"You're cute, you know that?" Imoen smiled. "Want an apple?" she said, taking an apple from the bowl and holding it out for the boar. The boar sniffed the apple with his big nose and slowly, gently took the apple from Imoen's fingers and munched on it. The pink-haired mage took the opportunity to pet the eating boar between the eyes, and from the look of things, the boar was really enjoying it.

"Guys," Imoen said while she looked at her friends. "We can't..."

"I," Dradeel said while tears ran from his eyes, "know... I BAD DOGGIE WEREWOLF! know...". Tommy was simply choking up.

"It's okay," Imoen petted the boar one more time. "You can go home now," she said and unsummoned the boar.

"That was... beautiful," Tommy sniffed. "I... I must have been stuck in halfling-form too long."

"Cuteness aside," Imoen sighed. "We still don't have any dinner to serve..."

"Hey, I know!" Tommy announced. "We could tie the chickens together and make it look like a boar..."

"My sister once tried something like that," Imoen chuckled. "Trying to make one book out of six she accidentally destroyed by using them for sword practise. She accidentally combined the tenets of Helm, Bane, Selune, Shar, Sune and Talona. I surely hope some weird cult doesn't get their hands on that mangled book. But, the ruse didn't work for her, and it won't work for us."

"I know!" Tommy said. "We'll summon a demon to bring us some food!"

"Are you sure that is wise?" Imoen said. "Demons get kinda iffy when mortals call on them."

"Nah, don't worry," the halfling grinned. "I've done it plenty of times!"

Before Imoen and Dradeel could stop him, the halfling waved his hands in arcane gestures, and, soon enough, a portal formed. The portal was formed out of living, screaming bones and in it, an ominous reddish landscape, ruled by unspeakable horrors could be seen.

Imoen's breath caught in her throat as... something stepped through. But soon, fear made way for surprise. The 'demon' that came through was relatively short and plump and entirely blood red. He had no horns, but he did have two short pointed ears on top of his bald head. The red demon had short legs and a beer belly. Also quite noticeable was the short tail with the point at the end... just above a gigantic posterior.

But even more remarkable was the demon's entrance. He came through the portal sliding on his tummy, while uttering 'Yeeeeeesssssssssss????' as he came to a halt.

"Are you... a demon?" Imoen asked.

Quick as a flash, the red demon stood up. "Oh, let's see. Pointy tail, pointed ears, big red butt," he said calmly. "YES, OF COURSE I AM A DEMON! WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM, A GIRL SCOUT?!!!"

Amazed at how this demon could go from a friendly to a shouty demeanor and back again within a second, Imoen continued the conversation. "Well, I mean, you do look like a demon, but I was kinda expecting..."

"Big horns, gigantic wings, fifteen eyes, TOWERINGLY HIGH BODIES, MUSCLES LIKE A BUCKET FILLED WITH RIPPLING MAGGOTS?!!" the Red Guy shouted before turning friendly again. "You're thinking of Floyd. No, he's on vacation now, total burn-out," he said, while twirling his finger at the side of his red head. "Too much blood war for him... Ended up strolling around in a tutu and started blessing his comrades with a faery-dust... So, anything I can do for you?"

"Okay, then, errr, demon, I..." Imoen said.

"Just call me LackSlacks," the red guy responded.

"Well," Dradeel muttered.

"What?! You want me to SLAUGHTER YOUR ENEMIES?! Do you want me to BRING YOU MAGICAL ITEMS?! Or SCARE YOUR SISTER?!"

"Actually, we want you to bring us... a main course?" Imoen shrugged.

LackSlacks merely stared blankly at the trio of anxious wizards. "What do I look like to you? A DELIVERY SERVICE?!" he finally said. "I have better things to DO WITH MY TIME, like SORTING OUT MY COLLECTION OF PORCELAIN CAT FIGURINES or THROWING ROCKS AT PALADINS!"

That said, the demon fished a tin from a non-existent pocket and tossed it at the feet of the wizards. "Unbelievable," the red guy said as he pulled his knees to his chest and landed on his bouncy posterior. Immediately, the red guy butt-walked back to the portal. "What will they summon me for next?! To become SOME SORT OF STRAIGHT-MAN FOR A COW AND A CHICKEN?!!"

As the portal closed the three mages jumped at the oddly shaped tincan.

"What is it, what is it? BAD DOG!" Dradeel said nervously.

Imoen took the strange tin and rubbed away from stains. "It says... Spam..."

"What the hell is that?" Tommy asked.

"I have no idea," Imoen said as she started tugging at the little ring to open the can.

"Dili?" Imoen asked as she had snuck away from the dinner she and the other inmates were very much enjoying. After a little switch, the soup and bread were now starters while the spam and chicken were now a mixed main course. Their soup, bread and chicken the three mages had poured his blood sweat and tears in were well received. The spam, however, was not greeted as warmly...

Imoen headed back to Dili's room, which was right next to her own. Dili, having the unique innate ability to change her shape, had been punished to be confined to her room because she had imitated Wanev earlier, but Imoen would not deny Dili some of the food.

As soon as Imoen picked the lock and slipped inside the room, she suddenly found herself staring at her mirror image. "Hi, Immy!" Dili spoke, breaking the image by adding a squeaky little girl's voice to the image.

"Gods, is my hair really that pink?" Imoen chuckled.

"Uh-huh," Dili nodded and assumed her normal shape, that of a blonde little girl, barely five years old.

"I've brought you something," Imoen said and put a tray on the table next to the bed. On the tray was a cup of vegetable soup, some slices of bread, a chicken leg and an undefined piece of meat. "That's boar," Imoen smiles. "The last piece that could be saved after Tiax charbroiled it to a crisp."

"Where is mister Tiax?" Dili smiled as she popped a piece of bread in his mouth, causing Imoen to grow as white as a sheet.

"Oh, dear, I forgot all about him!" Imoen chuckled.

"Tiax demands to be put down!" the gnome said as his feet almost reached the floor. "My underwear is hurting me! Lord Cyric, let the enemies of your servant suffer! When I rule, all girls called Imoen will be hung upside down from their ankles above a pit of yuan-ti berserkers till their brains will explode... Is there anyone there?! ANYONE?! Help a poor ruler out here!"