"Well, this seems to be a nice little collection of tincans," Risa grinned as she watched her friends and family prepare for battle. Korgan was wearing his platemail and helmet, which doubled as a drinking horn, while Minsc and Keldorn were quietly discussing the chafe-factor of their Full Plate. Viconia was, once again, strutting around like a queen in her Red Dragon scale, while Jan was adjusting his supple leather. Dynaheir was wrapping her belt around her robe and tying scrollcases and wands into it, while securing her precious spellbook into a magically protected container at the other side of her beholder-skin belt. Laska stood in front of the door, wearing her green elven chainmail and matching helmet, and was twirling her moonblade impatiently, painting in the air with her blue halo.

*'Stop making me dizzy, already! Save the twirling for the enemies you want to impress with your parlor-tricks!'* Ipsiya protested.

"Oh," Laska grinned, "don't be such a... such a girl, Ip."

"Come on," Imoen coughed, still wearing her robe and sitting at the table with a cup of hot cocoa in her hands. "I wanna come too! Come on, Vic, let me go with you? Please? Please Please? Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please?"

"No, no, no and no," Viconia said. "Cleric's orders : You're staying right here. You're still too weak from the theft of your soul. It wouldn't be safe..."

"What do you mean?" Imoen asked and rose from her seat... only to sink back into it and clutching her head. "Oooooh, I stood up to fast," she pouted.

"Listen to Viconia, Im," Laska spoke tentatively. "She's right, you can't go out like this yet."

"And whose fault is that," Imoen sighed, not looking at her sister. "Oh, never mind, just go already."

"Don't worry," Risa giggled. "Becky, me and Lise'll keep you busy. Wanna play tag?"

"No running!" Viconia said sternly. "But you can play board games, if you like."

"What kinda board games did you have at home, Viconia?" Risa asked.

"Yes," Imoen grinned. "That's what it'd like to know."

"Well," Viconia said. "We had 'Strip-the-skin-of-the-elf', 'Lolth rules all', 'Murder, who cares?' and then there was 'Spin the bottle' for the young priestesses in the first year of Ararch-Tilith."

"'Spin the bottle?'" Imoen giggled. "You played 'Spin the Bottle'?!"

"It's not as insipid of the surface-version," Viconia said. "When you spin the bottle you must kiss the priestess it points at, but you're only safe if the second bottle points at the free-zone. If the second bottle points at the Dagger, the Spider or the Garotte, you guess what your subject will try to do next... or what you will try to do to your subject."

"Geez," Imoen grimaced. "Why do you even play a game like that?"

"Well, two other squares the second bottle can hit are Moneybag and Bed," Viconia smirked.

"OY!" Korgan shouted. "Enough dallyin'! Me axe be itchin' fer blood!"

"Go on, Vic," Imoen grinned, "can't keep the psycho-dwarf waiting, you know."

"Will you be alright?" Viconia asked.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Vic," Imoen nodded, while looking at Laska as Rose kissed her on the cheek at the door.

Laska and her friends stepped through the large double doors of the alleged thieves' guild at the docks, which was paradoxically a hideous orange-bricked eyesore which stood out like an Orc at a paladin-convention.

"Well, the interior of this den seems to be remarkably unchanged," Keldorn shifted uncomfortably. "Laska, do we have deal with this... host of villainy."

"Host of villainy?!" Minsc grinned. "Boo, I have just learned a new word! Oh, Minsc is so happy to have Keldorn for a friend! He kicks butts and teaches words, such a warrior!"

"What kind o' normal person be usin' the word 'villainy' in an actual sentence?" Korgan snorted.

"I was just saying," Keldorn sighed. "That we'll never find a worse hive of scum and villainy!"

"I find your lack of faith disturbing, Keldorn," Viconia grinned. "Surely there are evil faiths with more zest for evil deeds than these lowlives?"

Laska in turned, ignored her bickering friends and scanned the many stalls filled to the brim with stolen goods and assorted knickknacks. Her eye, however, fell on a short and lithe hooded figure, which had a stall quite near the large door leading deeper into the complex. Laska stepped toward the figure, and quickly found that her instincts were correct.

The woman pulled back her hood to reveal two long and pointed ears, long flowing dark brown hair, two laughing doe-like eyes and a ready smile. The girl was easily two heads shorter than Laska, but was at least five times Laska's age.

"Greetings elven sister," the girl smiled and extended her arm, which Laska quickly clasped. "It's good to see another one of the Fair Folk in town. We are few and far between in this region, sadly. Well, there's Missy downstairs, but she gets weird when she's overworked. Mook's the name, yours?"

"Laska," the tattooed elf greeted. "Pleased to meet you, elven sister."

"Laska?" Mook blinked. "Hey, I've heard of you. You wouldn't be Laska of the Leafwalker family, would you?"

"I'm the magic-less black sheep they'd like to keep a secret," Laska grinned.

"Don't be modest," Mook smiled. "I've heard you took care of that Beholder-problem for us and killed a Red Dragon."

"Actually, it was my friend Viconia that killed that dragon, not me," Laska said, scanning over the strange assortment of items at Mook's stand, ranging from strange weapons to armor, spells, herbs, crockery, amulets, beads, jewelry and small object d'arts.

"Oh, I've heard about that," Mook said. "Is there really a Drow travelling with you? Isn't that dangerous?"

"Oh, Vic's alright," Laska grinned. "It's the gnome you have to look out for. If he starts talking, he'll never stop."

"The gnome that's talking to that very frustrated looking paladin?"

"That's the one," Laska grinned. "So, what about you? How'd you join the Shadow Thieves?"

"Oh, I didn't," Mook smiled. "I'm a self-taught independent from Silverymoon, making my own way in the world. If I do a job for the Shadow Thieves sometimes, they let me operate here. Right now, I'm selling these items I... liberated from rival guilds and bandit-camps to get enough money to book passage to Waterdeep. I've heard the climate is better there for us Fair Folk. But... take a look at my wares. Do you see anything you'd like?"

Laska scanned the wares, but her eye fell again at an ornate spiked gauntlet which looked about to be just her size. It was mithril, very light and very dangerous-looking.

"Aha, the lady has good taste," Mook smiled as she handed Laska the gauntlet, which she slipped around her left hand. "This is a Duergar-made gauntlet formerly owned by the bandit-lord Eriac. I'm afraid the other one was lost long ago, so I'll give you a good discount."

"I like it," Laska grinned and shadowboxed a little, looking to see where the spikes would end up in an imaginary foe.

"Try it..." Mook smiled.

"OY!" was shouted from the doorway, from which a large burly thief emerged, grinning as if he owned the place. "Yer the one who wants to go through the doorway, ey?"

"Oh, no," Moon whispered, in a voice so low that only Laska could hear it. "It's Percius."

"Who's this bloke, then?" Laska whispered back.

"Only the most chauvinistic male pig on the entire planet," Mook snorted. "He actively tries to fondle all the females in the room."

"So," Laska spoke to Percius, "you're the doorman, eh?"

"Not for you," Percius grinned. "So, what will you do for me if I let you and your friends through that door?"

"You get to keep your nose unbroken," Laska grinned.

"That's not... what I meant," Percius leered. "You know," the man slurred, "the best way for a woman to get up in the world, is for her to get on her knees once in a while, if you catch my meaning."

"Oh," Laska nodded, "I get your meaning." Percius' eyes grew wide when he saw the elven beauty actually lower to her knees in front of him, and quickly tugged on a curtain to offer himself and his lover of the eve some privacy... but his joy was short lived.

A sickening crunch sounded through-out the guild, followed by a high-pitched scream of pain and terror. A second later, Percius lay moaning on the floor, clutching his groin with both hands as a small puddle of blood leaked from his trousers and pooled to the floor.

Laska strutted past the thief and back to Mook. "Great gauntlet," Laska grinned. "I could really feel the flesh tearing apart."

"Only 100 gold," Mook grinned. "Enjoy."

The door past the moaning thief gave way to a vast underground complex of tunnels, which led past an elaborate training facility where young thieves were trying their luck... sometimes for the last time ever. All the while, Keldorn's sword-arm was twitching, and on more than one occasion, it took Viconia to keep Keldorn from storming the overseers whenever they'd chuckle over some unfortunate youngster's death.

The long winding tunnels finally led to a large and well-decorated room. A large bed stood in the middle, flanked by a large bubble bath and numerous expensive tapestries, golden objects and all manner of expensive art. No doubt the man living here loved luxury... and no doubt that every single object was nicked as well.

"So sorry to have kept you waiting," a blonde, tall human man wearing a pleasant smile and worn leather armor entered the room. For all, he didn't look like a ruthless uber-thief, but more like a pleasant, neighborly fellow. The kind of man you'd trust to babysit your children during a time of crisis. Then again, looks can be deceiving.

"Pleased to finally meet you, Laska, but... you've seemed to having emasculated my doorman."

"Oh, he was gagging for a punishment," Laska said and flexed her muscles a little.

"I agree," the man nodded. "I cannot have him scaring away all our female members with his antics. I consider the matter closed. My name is Aran Linvail, by the way."

"Fine," Laska said. "Now where's Spellhold so I can go there, kick ass, and get back on good terms with my sister."

"Right to the point, eh? That is fine with me. You are a very capable person, and I wish to propose a trade of services," Aran said and sat down in one of his comfy chairs near the fireplace.

Laska, however, didn't like that answer and stepped forward menacingly, but, much to her dismay, her angry looks and threats of violence didn't do anything to break the man's air of superiority. "I have already paid you! Now GIVE ME THE LOCATION!!"

"Uh-uh," Aran shook his head. "The deal was 20.000. You only paid five and molested several of my agents. Do you know what 'Raise Dead'-scrolls cost these days? I apologize if you feel you have been done wrong. I assure you, all that you have paid is being put to good use."

"Ach!" Korgan chuckled. "Not fer the good o'us, that be fer sure."

"Your reputation is such that you should not let us wait to see results," Keldorn snarled. "I question your motives even now, thief, and I am ready at the blade."

"Boo sees through your kind words. You smell of treachery," Minsc said, wagging a beefy finger at the smiling thief. "Prove me wrong or face the boot!"

" First and foremost, you will be compensated for the gold you have paid. I will give you several magical items; they are yours to keep regardless of what comes," Aran said, handing the items to Dynaheir.

"I see," Dynaheir said. "Is it a coincidence that these items protect against the undead?"

"You," Aran said with a sneer at the dark-skinned mage, breaking his pleasant demeanor like a porcelain mask, "you have no right of speaking here. A monster such as you which slaughtered a great number of our brethren. The only reason you're still alive is because you are in Laska's company."

"DO NOT THREATEN FAIR DYNAHEIR OR FACE THE BOOT! RRRAAAGGGHHHH!" Aran managed to jump from the seat and hurl himself to the floor mere seconds before Minsc sliced the expensive piece of furniture in two with one swipe of Lilarcor."

"Calm thyself, Minsc," Dynaheir said, putting her hand on Minsc's shoulder. "No good will come from this."

"Yes, yes," Minsc said. "Minsc and Boo shall listen."

"Well, that was to be expected," Aran said, after picking himself from the floor. "My best chair too, but it was my own fault. Anyway, back to business. I regret that I must ask a few tasks of you, since there have been some... recent developments."

"This is a waste of our time! This fool only wishes to rob us of our time as well as our already given gold," Viconia snarled. "This is what happens when you put a male in power. Lots of hot air in one place."

"As much as I will ramble on at the drop of a hat," Jan smiled gently. "It's like my uncle Gummo use to say, 'Blah blah blah,' he'd say, and we'd be right there with our 'Uncle Gummo, we've got things to do,' and he'd be right back with the 'But just one more story. Just one more, blah blah.'"

"Sounds like someone we know, eh?" Viconia whispered to Keldorn.

"Think of it this way," Aran said. "I have a very important mission for you, in fact, it is so important it might concern the very future of our guild, the city and maybe the entire nation of Amn! Interested now?"

Crickets could be heard in the background as the party stood at the shipping-ports of the docks, on the waterfront while the full moon was neatly reflected on the calm surface of the sea.

"I can't believe that Aran's 'vital mission' is guarding a crate at the docks for half a night," Laska snarled. "If he doesn't cough up the location of Spellhold soon, I'll beat it out of him."

Behind her, Korgan was snoring as he leaned into the wall, while Keldorn and Minsc stood diligently next to the crate with contents unknown. Dynaheir and Viconia were looking very bored indeed while Jan seemed to be humming the same tune over and over again.

"Well," Mook, who had been appointed their liaison, said with a smirk. "It's better than my first task for Aran : peeling potatoes for his supper."

"Ouch, that is bad," Laska sighed. "But how the hell are we going to pass the time? Standing watch is so dull and I could really use a drink."

"Never fear, the gnome is here!" Jan suddenly spoke up while Korgan's loud snores carried over the water.

"Let's tell horror-stories!" Jan said. "I'll go first. This one has been told in my family for generations. It's the story of... The Old... Empty... Barn."

"Do tell," Dynaheir nodded. "Maybe the story will keep me awake."

"Well, the Old... Empty... Barn... belonged to my aunt, who disappeared under mysterious circumstances."

"How so?" Laska asked.

"Well, my aunt was fond of chili, and blew herself right out of the window after a chili-dinner one time," Jan said. "Right into the beak of a griffin, poor thing."

"But what about the barn?" Dynaheir asked, attracting curious looks from Minsc, Viconia and Laska.

"Oh, yes, well, let's start off the tale of... The Old... Empty... Barn," Jan said, and all of his friends were leaning forward to hear the story.

"There was nothing in it," Jan said, smiled and remained silent.

"Knowing thine repertoire," Dynaheir said. "That story was a bit disappointing."

"That's it?!" Viconia said. "No turnips, no griffins, no relatives?"

"Come on, Vicky," Jan smiled, "weren't you listening? I said it was completely empty."

"Hold on, guys," Laska said, sensing a familiar feeling starting to well up from the pit of her stomach. "I think there's an undead near."

Keldorn nodded and signalled for the party to circle around the cargo and raise their weapons. Mook drew her sword and stood her ground at the stairs up. Suddenly, wisps of mist circled around the staircase, drawing together until they slowly changed shape into a man... a pale muscular man dressed in a loincloth. He had glowing yellow eyes and long claw-like fingers.

"Well, well, Mook... I've been looking for you," the man said.

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage," Mook said, eyeing the creature warily.

"It is fitting, Mook, for I have been watching you," the man smiled wickedly, displaying inch-long fangs.

"Okay, this is getting scary," Mook gulped.

"Truly, my beauty, it is time for you to leave this life. Guarding the spoils of another man's crime is no way for a woman to live," the man grinned.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning exploded into the man's chest, knocking the pale man off his feet and causing him to roll down the stairs and land with a thud.

"So," Dynaheir said, still pointing her finger at the man, "Lassal, it seems the mistress has not killed thee off yet, pity."

"What?! YOU?!" Lassal shouted. "Dynaheir! We thought you had been destroyed! You betray your own brethren for these warmbloods?!"

"I am no longer a fiend such as thou, Lassal," Dynaheir shouted. "Begone or face our fury!"

"The mistress shall hear of this, Dynaheir!" Lassal snarled. "She shall fashion a throne from your unliving bones!"

"I no longer fear Bodhi," Dynaheir said. "Begone."

"Yeah," Laska said. "What she said. I'd go over there and chop your head off, but I'd get too sick."

Mook, who had backed of first, now found the strength of will to stand ready to fight, and Keldorn raised Carsomyr menacingly, causing the vampire to choose defeat over the true death and turn into mist, leaving his quarry alone and his mission unfinished.

"He knew," Keldorn said. "Aran Linvail set us up! He knew their adversaries in this guild war are vampires and forced our confrontation. That's why he send poor Mook with us instead of one of his own men ... to serve as bait! Expendable bait."

"The bastard!" Mook said. "Who knows what that vampire wanted to do to me?! If he had turned me, I would have been barred from Arvandor forever! Guys, I really owe you big-time."

"Go to my house in the Temple District, and lay low there for a while, Mook," Laska said. "There's a score to be settled with Linvail, but first... we have to do some vampire hunting, it seems. We've just become targets in the Guild War."

Korgan, in the meantime, had missed all the commotion, his snores still capable of waking the dead.