"Say," Rose asked Laska as she strolled over to the couch in the main room where Laska was engrossed in a book of Elven Lore. "Love? Did you happen to see where some of my paint went? I was planning on spending an afternoon painting, but all my cans red and white paint have gone missing."

"I told Imoen she could use some of your paint to decorate her room. Minsc didn't bring enough cans with him this morning when he went to the general store," Laska replied.

"But... red and white?" Rose muttered, and for a moment, the two lovers shared a brief look. "No, she wouldn't..."

Immediately, Laska and Rose ran up to Imoen's room, opened the door... and were blinded by a sheer explosion of pink. Pink walls... pink ceiling... and clashing horribly with the still wooden floor and furniture.

"Oh, sweet Sune, my eyes!" Rose exclaimed.

"HI!" Imoen, completely covered with spats of pink paint, greeted cheerfully as she stepped off the ladder. "How'd you like this little touch of color."

"It's... it's... it's... very pink," Laska stammered.

"Hey, now that I have a room of my own, I can make it as pink as I want! You never let me paint our tower-room back at candlekeep," Imoen giggled.

"That's because I knew you'd paint it pink," Laska muttered. "And there was nothing wrong with the gray stones of our old room, Im."

"Oh, come on, Big-ears," Imoen patted her elven sister in the shoulder. "I know you like it."

"It seems like you're settling in nicely," Rose smiled.

"Oh, you'd better believe it!" Imoen grinned. "Come on, I'll get washed up and we'll go on our shopping-spree!"

"I want this one, and this one, and this one!" Imoen replied cheerfully as she piled on several suits of casual wear, and surprisingly, none were pink. Laska, Viconia and Dynaheir had decided to take Imoen out shopping on Waukeen's Promenade to fill on her wardrobe and prepare her for the coming troubles. So far, Imoen had been raiding the Adventurer's Mart, a shop filled to the brim with everything for the modern adventurer of the thirteen-seventies : Swords, armors, tents, tent pegs, spells, spell-ingredients, journals, scrolls, quills, cook ware, backpacks, compasses, maps, 'How To'-books, harps, flutes, lutes, storybooks and even treasure-maps.

"Imoen," Dynaheir offered. "Shall we move on to the armors and weapons?"

"Oh, yeah," Imoen grinned. "I'll need those too, won't I?"

"Perhaps thou art interested in this Studded Leather?"

"Sure, looks cool," Imoen said and took the leather. "But it's brown! YO, Ribald?! Do you have this one in PINK?!"

"No, he has not!" Dynaheir snapped.

"Say, Dyna?" Imoen asked. "I've always been meaning to ask you about the stuff that's on this price-tag. Armor Count : +2. What does that mean?!"

"I... have no idea," Dynaheir replied, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Really?" Imoen replied as she gave the leather another look. "What's a thac0, then?"

"Sssssh, be quiet!" Dynaheir hissed. "Be quiet or they'll hear you!"

"Who will?"

"The Players!"

"The what?"

"Nobody knows anything about them! Accept that they control our lives without us knowing it. Hast thou ever cast a spell thou didst not want to cast?! Or didst thou ever ran head-first into a band of orcs even though thou knew better?"

"Well... yeah?"

"Just be careful," Dynaheir said. "The players are cruel, sadistic and only wish to control our lives!"

That moment, Imoen looked up to the skies. Allowing herself a cheeky grin she stuck out her tongue and made a rude noise. "You ain't gonna control me, stupid players!!!"

On the other side of the shop, Laska and Viconia were looking at a pair of earmuffs for cold nights in mountainous areas.

"Cold ears," Laska shuddered. "What a nightmare! Remember Nashkel?"

"I hear you," Viconia grimaced.

"AH!" sounded the voice of Imoen from across the stairs "This leather doesn't fit! Am I really that fat?!"

"It's an elven sized leather, Imoen," the voice of Dynaheir sounded.

"Oh," Imoen's voice sounded. "Let's put it back, then..."

"Oh, yes," Laska grinned. "I'm happy she's back. She's just what we need to breathe some more life in our party."

"Speaking of life," Viconia said. "I haven't seen our resident halfling around recently."

"No," Laska said. "Probably went back home. Did you know she didn't even say goodbye?"

"I knew she was trouble the moment we met her," Viconia sighed as Laska sat down on a bench to try on a pair of boots.

"I don't know," Laska said as she grunted and slid her feet into the enchanted boots. "I think these buggers are too small."

"I would say," Viconia smirked. "You're trying to put on the halfling-sized versions."

"What?" Laska replied and threw the boots aside in disgust. "Oh, damn, that's why they hurt so much! Why don't they invent one-size-fits-all boots, clothes, helmets and armors?! We could really use those!"

"Look Laska," Imoen squealed as she bounced into view and presented Laska with a magic bow. "Take a look at this cool bow! It makes its own arrows. Can I have this one? Oh, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?"

"Have you seen the price tag on this thing?" Laska said as she gave the bow a look-over. "Twenty-thousand gold! We probably slaved through two whole dungeons to get that cash together!"

"Oh, we've got money enough, and it would be a shame not to use it!" Imoen smiled warmly. "Besides, think of the arrow-costs we'll save!"

"Nah, it's just too steep," Laska sighed. Besides, it would cut into my drinking budget...

Immediately, Imoen hugged Laska from behind and pressed her cheek into her sister's. "Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?"

"No..."

As a result, Imoen lay on her back, draping her head into Laska's lap and looked upon her sister with sad, puppy-dog eyes. "Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?"

"Alright," Laska sighed. "You can have the bloody bow already."

"Great!" Imoen replied and got up immediately. "Yo, Ribald! Wrap it up, she's paying!" In the background, Ribald gave Imoen two thumbs up.

"Still glad Imoen's back?" Viconia smirked as she noticed Laska was quite miffed at having been had.

"Yes," Laska shook her head. "Very..."

After all of Imoen's purchases had been paid for and wrapped up, Laska slid them into her Bag of Holding to be taken home later, though she found it impossible to get her sister to part with her new love : her magic bow. With the bow strapped to her back, Imoen was currently eating a delicious chocolate cake at the Mithrest Inn. Though Rose wasn't tending bar today, Laska and her friends were always a welcome sight at her inn. They were offered one of the best conversation-pits, near the aquarium-wall in the back. Alternating between eating, watching the fishes and chatting with her friends, Imoen gladly participated in the conversation. Laska noticed, however, that Viconia's gaze was often elsewhere. Following her friends' gaze, she discovered that Viconia was glancing at a slim female, most certainly an elf, who was wearing a black, hooded cloak and dainty gloves.

"Excuse me for a moment," Viconia suddenly spoke and rose from her seat.

Slowly, the Drow stepped to the figure at the bar and came to a halt a few feet behind her. The figure didn't acknowledge her, but gently put down her cup, awaiting an answer.

"Aluve usst, dalninil," Viconia announced. "It is not often that I encounter another Drow sister on the surface."

The figure turned around. "I wondered how long it would take you to spot me," she spoke and removed her hood. Tresses of white hair fell over her shoulders, revealing the face of a young Drow, maybe forty years of age. A playful smile crossed her young features, augmented by a glint in her strange, golden eyes.

"Long enough," Viconia smirked.

"Indeed," the young Drow responded.

"Do I detect a hint of the Menzoberranzan tongue in your common?" Viconia asked.

"Very astute," the young Drow smile. "My name is Liriel..." she paused a moment, "Shobalar..."

"Shobalar?" Viconia said, knowing the female was lying, but not out of malice. She did not seem willing to reveal her true house-name. "So, you are a female wizard, then?"

"Correct," Liriel answered, knowing House Shobalar was known for their female wizards, "and you?"

"Viconia DeVir, once of a proud House, now travelling the surface-lands out of necessity," Viconia replied.

"Indeed," Liriel spoke. "Well, then, we have something in common."

"Truly?" Viconia spoke. "Has House Shobalar fallen?"

"Ah... No," Liriel smiled mysteriously. "But you seem to be doing well for yourself. You even seem to be travelling with the ancient enemy of our people."

"You mean, Laska, the elf in my party?" Viconia replied.

"No, the hamster in your party," Liriel snorted. "Of course, I meant the elf!"

"I distrusted her at first," Viconia said. "But she is not so bad as other elves, who would hunt us at sight. Shall I introduce you to them? It is a rare pleasure to find another of my race."

"Agreed," Liriel offered. "Surfacers can be so... simple, can't they? Quick to judge, lacking imagination... Lacking common sense... Lacking a sense of humor and, well, lacking a brain in general. I swear, some of these surfacers haven't got a humorous bone in their body."

"So, what are your thoughts on Drizzt, Liriel?" Imoen asked the newcomer at their table. The evening was progressing nicely, and after chatting for a bit, the girls were getting a mite tipsy.

"Oh, dear Lolth, don't start," Liriel giggled and took another sip of her wine. "When I first heard of him, I couldn't believe it. I mean, he's more like a cardboard cut-out of a Drow, rather than a real one."

"Thou art telling me," Dynaheir said. "Dost thou know that we met him?"

"Truly?" Liriel said.

"Yes," Laska chuckled. "I've sparred with demons from the Nine-Hells themselves! Must I suffer this tiresome dance?"

"Oh, Mother Lolth!" Liriel groaned. "Did he really say that?"

"It's completely true, I swear it!" Laska said. "Does the mere mention of Drizzt attract your ilk?"

"That egotist!" Liriel said. "He's not only made of cardboard, but also a hot-air balloon!"

"Will you not miss your travelling companion while chatting with us?" Imoen asked.

"Nah," Liriel smiled. "Fyodor is still trying to book passage for us back to Skullport down at the docks. He'll be away for another few hours. Especially when he notices that I still have our moneypouch and has to pay for our seats."

"So..." Viconia spoke. "Matron Baenre is really dead?"

"As a doornail, Viconia," Liriel replied. "About time, I might add. She wasn't exactly a nice old granny who'd greet you with apple-pie whenever you'd come visit her and..."

A shadow suddenly fell over the gathered women, though the elves heard them approach from afar already. Hovering over them were five men, all wearing garish clothes, which revealed their hairy, muscular chests. They were all blonde, all lust-filled and all looking very ridiculous. Quickly one of the waitresses rushed up to them.

"I am DonJon dork Marcose!!" the leader of the pack announced. "And this is my army of lovers! And we have chosen you five lucky gals to be the subject of our wooing!"

"Excuse me, Laska," Brianna the waitress spoke. "But I have asked them to leave before, and they will not!"

"Tarry not, wench!" DonJon smiled broadly. "Love cannot be stopped!" Laska noticed that the men weren't exactly looking them in the eye when they spoke to them.

"Another thing that I like about this inn," Liriel spoke, "is that you can walk around and not be fondled. Fyodor and I were at this other place, the Copper Coronet? I tell you, I was grabbed more times than a copper at a miser's convention."

"Sorry," Brianna sighed.

"Allow me," Liriel grinned and stood up, approaching the nearest male. A magical light grew around her mouth and, without hesitation, she pressed her lips on those of the hapless male. But instead of revelling in the kiss, the male coughed, choked and sputtered as he slid away from the Drow and fell to the floor. To his horror, his tongue had shrunken down to the size of a pea.

DonJon watched as Laska slammed the heads of two of his men together, and while Dynaheir and Viconia tackled the remaining one with a Hold Person spell.

"But... but... we only wanted to love you!" DonJon tried.

"More like trying to shag us, I'd say," Laska said sharply.

"You want love?" Imoen grinned and waved her arms. "I'll give you love."

A summoned creature appeared in front of DonJon in a flash of light : A skunk. Startled, DonJon fled, running as fast as his legs could carry him, but the skunk was in hot pursuit, chasing after DonJon by hopping on all four legs.

The girls giggled for a bit, but when the five men fled, another gigantic man entered. "Little raven?" he spoke in a bass voice. "Where are you?"

"There's Fyodor," Liriel said. "It's been fun. Perhaps we shall meet again."

"Thanks for letting me sleep in your bed tonight, Vic," Imoen smiled as she emerged from behind the dressing screen wearing her nightshift. Viconia had already closed the drapes and Imoen was about to put out the oil-lamps.

"Don't mention it," Viconia said. The Drow, being tired already, had already changed earlier and was lying on the left side of the bed, on her side and with her head on her favorite pillow.

"I don't wanna sleep alone yet," Imoen said while she crawled over the Drow to reach her spot, as the bed had been place against the wall to save space, and was snuggly squeezed between a dresser at the foot-end and a nightstand. Viconia grunted in annoyance as Imoen's knee grazed her belly and the shift of weight made her perch quiver momentarily. "And I wanted to give Laska and Rose the chance to, you know..."

"I know," Viconia spoke tiredly. "I can hear them from here."

"Really? Oh, yeah, you've got the ear-thing going on, right? So... what are they saying to each other?"

Though Viconia's back was to the quirky Imoen, who was currently wrapping herself in the warm covers, she knew Imoen would have a sly grin on her face. "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell," Viconia replied.

"Oh, come on..."

"No..."

"Come on..."

"No..."

"Come on..."

"No..."

"I'll be your friend..."

"You are already my friend..."

"... that's true, so... what are they saying?"

"Go to sleep..."

"No..."

"Sleep now!"

"No..."

"I'm not talking to you anymore," Viconia sighed and snuggled onto her pillow.

Viconia felt herself drifting into the peace of quiet slumber... were it not that a certain pink girl announced herself once more. "Wow, what a big room!" Imoen giggled.

"Yes..."

"Hey, you got lotsa paintings and statues here," Imoen smiled. "Oh, and a full book-case!"

"Yes," Viconia said. "Laska turned the house's library into a bedroom for Risa and Becky, so I moved all the books in here. Nobody seems to interested in them beside me and Dynaheir, anyway. Rose gets into a reading-mood sometimes, but that's really it."

"Really, wow! I'll definitely spend more time in here! I love books!" Imoen smiled.

"Wonderful," Viconia sighed.

Suddenly, the Drow felt two lips smack onto her cheek. "G'night, Vic," Imoen whispered.

"Do that again and you will be sleeping on the floor," Viconia replied sharply... and tiredly.

"Geez, it was only a goodnight kiss!" Imoen pouted.

"Well, don't... Good night Imoen, now please be quiet."

Another few moments of blissful silence followed.

"Vic?" Imoen asked. Viconia groaned inwardly and did not answer. "Vic?" Imoen pressed. "Vicky?"

"Yes," Viconia finally answered.

"Are you asleep?" Imoen asked softly.

"Yes," Viconia replied sarcastically. "I always answer questions in my sleep..."

"Just wondering," Imoen said.

"Please do so quietly," Viconia sighed. "Us Drow need our beauty-sleep or our hair will fall out."

"Really?!" Imoen supported herself on her elbow and stared at the prone Drow.

"No..." Viconia said.

"Then why'd you say it?" Imoen sighed.

"To shut you up, but it failed," Viconia retorted. "Now go to sleep or I will hit you over the head with a mallet."

Again, silence... blissful silence settled in Viconia's bedroom. Still, the tired Drow could not sleep. Instead, Viconia listened intently... and smiled broadly when she heard the regular breathing pattern usually associated with sleep. Finally, Viconia could allow herself to sinking into blissful slumber. That was, until Imoen rolled onto her stomach... For a moment, the Drow thought she had been teleported into the middle of a working saw-mill.

Rolling onto her other side, the Drow snarled at her snoring friend. Thinking to have found the solution to her troubles, Viconia briefly held Imoen's nose... To no avail. The only thing she could do, was to tickle Imoen enough so that she would roll back again. Now, Viconia ended up with a snoring, giggling Imoen. After several tries, Imoen apparently had had enough and rolled back on her side.

Sighing, Viconia returned to her side of the bed and lay down on her pillow.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmm," sounded from next to her. Viconia slowly turned to Imoen with weary eyes. "That's SOOOO good!"

Oh, great, Viconia sighed. Just what I need... an erotic dream.

"What are you doing to me?" Imoen moaned.

Viconia sighed wearily... for about the third time this night. This isn't happening... this ISN'T happening!

"Oh, VICONIA!" Imoen all but screamed throatily.

Viconia's eyes grew wide with horrid distress. How was she going to save herself out of this one?

"Oh, Viconia! Thank you for buying me this deliciously giant chocolate icecream! Yummy!" Imoen wailed while a broad smile crossed her cheerful features.

Viconia groaned and stuffed her head under her pillow. She didn't dare hope, but finally, Imoen seemed to have quieted down. Again, Viconia prepared to go to sleep once more... until Viconia suddenly felt a flailing arm being draped over her face. She took the arms and put it back, but she was confronted with the simple fact that Imoen... was tossing and turning.

Viconia was suddenly pushed forward when Imoen's hand was placed between her shoulderblades, inching her towards the edge of the bed. Shortly after that, Viconia grimaced as she felt Imoen's foot against the backside of her knee. Finally, Imoen's knee in the small of her back sealed the deal : with a brief yelp, Viconia fell out of bed.

Trying to regain her composure, she was too late to stop the sleeping Imoen from rolling herself into the blankets, completely stealing them away from her side of the bed. Wrapped up tightly like a snuggly chrysalis, Imoen slept on peacefully.

Tweeting of the birds alerted Imoen to the fact that it was morning. Yawning and stretching, Imoen felt something hard and... chitinous? lying next to her as she yawned. Opening her eyes, she half-expected to see Viconia. Instead, she stared into eight playful eyes. Releasing a short yelp, Imoen found that there was a giant spider sitting on Viconia's side of the bed.

"Vic?" Imoen asked.

The spider looked at Imoen as if she was crazy, and then pointed one leg towards his basket. Inside the basket, Viconia lay sleeping peacefully, curled up into a ball as to fit into the wicket and wrapped up in a soft blanket while resting her head on her pillow.

"Weird," Imoen giggled. "Why'd she do that?!"

Disclaimer: Liriel Baenre belongs to Elaine Cunningham. Her books Daughter of the Drow, Tangled Webs and Windwalker are worth being in everyone's collection!