Evening in Trademeet.

Laska, Minsc, Korgan, Dynaheir and Imoen were sitting around a table filled with empty bottles and tankards. The hour was late, but the inn was still filled with people. Boisterous sounds bounced from the padded walls while barmaids were cheerfully carrying on cups.

"Yo, maid!" Korgan shouted. "Oy, wench! We be needin' a refill!" Unfortunately, the cheerful barmaid cheerfully ignored him.

"OOOOOYYYYYYYYYY!" Korgan shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Korgan, I don't think she wants to talk to you," Imoen said.

"Why e'er not?" Korgan snorted.

"It might have something to do with thee offering her to rub thine axe," Dynaheir said.

"Och," Korgan said, slamming the blade of his axe in the wooden table, "it be a genuine offer!"

"I don't think she'll talk to you again," Imoen said. "She called you a short, oversexed perverted lummox who smells like a dozen dead rats trapped in a wall of dung."

"OY!" Korgan snarled. "Who be ye callin' short?!"

"You didn't think that routine would work, would it?" Imoen grinned.

"Don't worry," Laska said and stood up. "I'll go get us some refills."

As soon as Laska was gone, Imoen let out the yawn she was holding in. Her mouth opened as wide as a barn as she stretched. Suddenly, she was looking very, very tired.

"If you're tired," Minsc said, "you need to go to sleep. Boo says little girls need their naps!"

"It's a good thing you said naps and not 'nappies', or I would have thrown a sleep-spell in your direction," Imoen said and stood up. "But, those are wise words nonetheless. Geez, I drank too much, I think."

"You only had two ales," Dynaheir said.

"Exactly," Imoen yawned again. She and her friends shared wishes for a good night's sleep and Imoen waded through the crowd towards the staircase leading up to the warm and soundproof room, hoping to crawl into bed without waking up Viconia. The Drow had been especially cranky today after they had left Raissa in her bed and had been directing poisonous glares at her and Laska all day. Imoen just hoped that Viconia hadn't locked the door, since she thought she was too tired to be able to pick the lock.

Imoen came across two men standing in front of the stairs. Both were seemingly wearing different uniforms. One man, the one on the right, wore a bright red and green uniform, harshly decorated with a house-symbol. The other man, the one on the left, wore a more feminine-looking uniform with softer colors and a somewhat smaller house-symbol on his chest.

"You dare show your face here," the one of the right snarled, "you Lurraxol scum!"

"It's a free inn, neutral territory," the one of the left retorted, "you Alibakkar wanker!"

"We'll see about that!" the man on the right said and raised his fist. "It's time for a beating!"

"Alibakkar pig!"

"Lurraxol rent-boy!"

"Excuse me," Imoen said and yawned a bit. "I'd like to get to the sta..."

"Out of the way, wench," the Alibakkar soldier snarled and pushed Imoen against the end of the bar. The pink-haired mage wasn't really hurt, but letting out a brief 'oof' was enough for an angry elf to take action.

Just as the Alibakkar soldier wanted to strike, he found a hand grasp his wrist firmly. The soldier turned around... and found himself staring into the fiery eyes of a fierce, tattooed, dark-haired... and utterly angry elf.

"Let go of me, bitch!" the soldier snarled, but Laska did not. Instead, she took hold of his arm with her other hand and yanked it down to meet her knee. The Alibakkar soldier yelled in pain after a resounding snap could be heard through the entire inn. He sank to the floor, cradling his aching arm.

"How dare you interfere with our duel, you ignorant woman!" the Lurraxol soldier yelled and took a swing at Laska, which she deftly avoided by leaning her head back.

"Has your mother never taught you that you shouldn't hit a woman?" Laska grinned. "Allow me to teach you a lesson." Immediately, and with astounding force, Laska's steel-nosed boot landed squarely between the soldier's legs, prematurely and permanently ending the man's time of sexual prime.

While the Lurraxol soldier sank to his knees, crying in a very high-pitched voice, Laska walked past him, absentmindedly pushing him to the floor with one hand and headed towards Imoen.

"You okay?" Laska asked.

"Err, Big-ears?" Imoen said and pointed to a table, where seven Alibakkar soldiers were getting up, readying themselves for a big fight.

"You take the one on the right," Laska grinned. "I'll take care of the other six!" Without saying another word, Laska steadied herself against the bar, and used it to propel herself forward, landing right on top of the group of soldiers. Dealing out kicks and punches while they all went down, she sent several soldiers flying... into the tables of the other patrons.

"Oy, me beer!"

"Hey, watch it, chump!"

"You spilled ale on my shirt! I'll kill you!"

"OY!" sounded Korgan. "Get yer paw outta me beard!"

And within a few seconds, the inn's peaceful interior had been transformed into an orgy of rampant violence. Fists were flying, curses were flying, kicks were flying... and the occasional patron ended up flying too.

The innkeep called over the barmaids to help him carry the expensive mirror from behind the bar to the storeroom for safe-keeping. All three struggled to keep the mirror from falling. Dodging a flying soldier, a drunken sot spinning around, an angry, cursing tattooed elf and a burly dwarf, they had almost dragged the mirror into the storeroom. At that point, the innkeep tripped over the threshold. The sounds of breaking glass, and of a cursing innkeep sounded from the storeroom. Angry, the three maids and the innkeep joined in the mindless violence.

Laska was having the time of her life. While treating the patron in front of her to a knuckle-sandwich, she treated the one behind her to a backwards high-kick. The blood pounded through her veins as she punched opponent after opponent. Of course, she didn't put full force behind her blows... she didn't want to go through people to fight just yet. She was having too much fun.

Suddenly, she felt someone tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she grabbed the clothes of her opponent and turned to find herself staring in the doe-like eyes of one of the smaller barmaids. Laska, naturally, hesitated and decided against throttling her. The last thing she saw of the barmaid, however, was a silver-colored serving tray heading towards her before the flat end slammed into the left side of her face. Laska found herself lying on the ground in utter surprise.

Immediately, she stood up, looking for a barmaid to kill, but it appeared she had already left. Glancing around for another person to hit, she noticed two chaps who were having just as much fun as she was having. One, a burly chap with short black hair, a short black beard and small eyes was cheerfully punching away at three patrons at the time. SMACK, one was sent hurtling into the wall, SLAM, the other soared through the air and crashed into a table. A third person actually got a hit in, but the burly man didn't even seem to feel it. Instead, the burly man took him by the lapels and threw him across the bar where he slammed into another fighting group.

Besides the burly man stood a thin, blonde man with a bit of a baby-face. He didn't seem to be very strong, but he was fast and clever, deftly avoided blows. The man grabbed one of the hanging chandeliers and kicked at his two opponents, knocking them both out of commission.

In the meantime, Dynaheir was sitting in the midst of all the violence at her table, calmly finishing her drink and watching the fun.

Alenina the bard was cheerfully plinging battle-tunes on a podium in the corner, playing music that fitted the cheerful fighting atmosphere. Though she certainly didn't hesitate to use her lute as a club if any of the patrons got too close to her.

Korgan sat on Minsc's shoulders and as they waded through the crowds they operated as a four-armed mad punching machine. "GREAT FUN!" Minsc shouted as they took out four half-orcs at once. Boo squeaked his approval from within Korgan's bushy beard.

Imoen was standing on a table, trying to see in the flurry of movement if there was someone she knew. Suddenly, however, she felt someone shaking on her table. Looking down, she saw an eager filthy looking man, itching to fight with the pink-haired girl. "I don't think so," Imoen grinned, and released a brightly colored ball of magic. The man's eye grew wide as his hands suddenly grew twenty times their size. "See how well you can hit with your knuckles dragging over the floor, dumbass!" Imoen giggled.

In the meantime, Laska had cheerfully grabbed a halfling and was dragging the screaming fellow over the bar, running alongside him. At the end of the bar, Laska stopped and released him, sending him to crash into a crockery-filled cupboard in the storeroom. "That'll teach not to step on my toes!" Laska shouted after him.

At that point, some bloke decided to smash a chair over Laska's head. Unfortunately for him, Laska avoided the blow, and ended up grinning ferally at the now gulping combatant. With one swift move, Laska grabbed the man and hoisted him over the bar to crash into a cabinet. Quickly, Laska jumped over the bar and locked the cabinet, taking her time to grab a nearly empty bottle of wine, leaned against the bar and quickly drank it. Deciding the wine had it the spot, she smashed the empty bottle over the head of the bloke who had the misfortune of straying too near her.

Looking around, she noticed she was not the only one having fun. In this battle, no weapons were drawn, no daggers were used. Only non-lethal, fun-violence.

Glancing into the frey, she noticed that the burly man and the blonde man were still hard at it, punching away at a seemingly endless stream of combatants. The two seemed to be reluctant friends.

Laska grinned and got back into action. Jumping off the bar, she dove right back into the crowd, downing three half-orcs as she went down. A little gnome sped between her legs towards the exit. It seemed she had had enough of the combat. But Laska was far from finished. Jumping up into the air, she high-kicked two fighting men with both her legs, knocking them down before landing again on her own two feet. Then... she spotted the barmaid who had hit her again.

Grinning, she approached the barmaid with an evil glint in her eyes. The elf tapped the barmaid on the shoulders, and again, her eyes met with those doe-like eyes. "So," Laska crossed her arms and grinned, "you thought you could get away with hitting me, didn't y..." SLAM, this time the tray connected with the right-side of Laska's face, sending the elf down again.

Damn, Laska said while getting up again, without seeing the barmaid. Deceptively small girl.

At that point, Laska just grabbed a chair and started to hit it over the heads of her many assailants. The night was young, and so was Laska.

Finally, after a seemingly endless stream of constant fun violence, the battle slowly died down. Tired, but happy, Laska surveyed the nearly destroyed main floor of the inn. Several unconscious patrons were lying about, but most of them had already retreated to their rooms or had gone back to their homes. After doing her bit helping to clean up, Laska decided it was time for bed. Already, her friend had turned in, and the only persons left was a single barmaid, Alenina the bard and the two blokes she had seen fighting earlier.

Alenina had a good night, despite the fight. Her hat was filled to the brim with gold coins. Laska fished ten coins from her pouch and tossed it in the hat, receiving a nod and a smile from Alenina who was packing up her instruments to go up to her room.

"Say, fellahs," Laska greeted the two men. "Fun, wasn't it? Are you still in town tomorrow? I'll buy you drinks."

"Sorry," the burly man said. "We'll be leaving. Someone couldn't pay for our room tonight," he directed at the blonde man.

"I can't help I've forgotten my wallet," the blonde man grinned.

"Name's Laska Leafwalker," she greeted while she clasped hands with them. "Yours?"

"Bud Spencer," the burly man replied.

"Terrence Hill," the blonde man nodded.

"Nice to meet you," Laska said. Then, she turned to the doe-like barmaid, tossed some coins to pay for her drinks. But as she turned away to walk up the stairs, she felt a silver tray collide with the back of her head.

"Why do you keep DOING THAT?!" Laska shouted.

"Customary tip," the barmaid spoke in a soft voice, "is ten percent, not five percent."

"Oh," Laska said, and tossed her some more coins.

Carefully, Laska opened the door to her room without waking up Rose. In the dark, she could see that Rose had pulled all the blankets towards her, and Laska didn't blame her. It was a cold night, after all. Quickly, Laska removed her vest and pants and slipped under the covers, to curl up against Rose's back, sharing her warmth with that of her lover. Being careful not to wake her, she snaked her arms around Rose's waist and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.