Istarion stared at his girlfriend Aerie.

"You're WHAT?"

"Pregnant! Oh, isn't it wonderful?"

"But…but…Throne of Bhaal…horror…destruction…"

"Oh, don't worry. Cespenar has adjusted my Elven Chain a bit so it will grow along with me – I hope you don't mind I used your Eye of Tyr to do that? – and the baby will be well protected."

"But…what about morning sickness? What if you vomit in the middle of a crucial spell? Last time I checked, vomit wasn't a certified spell component!"

The mage/cleric giggled. "I'm an elf, silly. We don't get morning sickness."

"But you won't be able to duck from blows when your stomach is the size of a Ankheg! You wouldn't be safe!"

"Don't worry darling," Aerie patted her boyfriend's cheek, "it will all be fine."

About a month later – they had just cleared out Watcher's Keep and were on their way to Amkethran to get some final supplies from Lazarus – Aerie, out of the blue, gasped.

"Oh! The baby! It's coming!"

"Now? But elves have a two year gestation period!" Istarion exclaimed, "you've been pregnant five weeks at most!"

The elf glared at him. "Shut up, Istarion! You did this to me after all!"

Imoen giggled. "Yes Istarion. What DID you do to her?"

"Oh, be quiet," Istarion muttered, taking Aeries hand.

"Do not worry," Jaheira pushed through the crowd, "I know how to deliver a baby. I saw one being born once."

"ONCE?!?!" Istarion nearly screamed, "This is my child we are talking about!"

"Oh, there he comes!" Aerie screeched, and sure enough, a perfect little creature emerged from under her chain mail.

"A boy," Jaheira pronounced, as if anyone could have missed that little detail, close pressed together as they all were in order not to miss a moment of the event.

"Oooh, it is tiny!" Minsc commented, "and wet! Uncle Minsc will protect you, little one. Minsc and Boo."

Istarion held his son in his arms, taking in the beautiful face, the pointed ears…

"I want to name him Quayle," Aerie announced. Istarion blanched.

"What?"

"Quayle. I want to name him Quayle," Aerie repeated, on the verge of tears.

Fortunately she was on the verge of tears so often that none of the party ever paid attention to that.

"I'm sorry, Aerie, but Quayle is a gnomish name. Our son is an elf."

"But…but…Uncle Quayle…"

"I know you want to honor your Uncle, but honestly, naming a child after him? With his name? Imagine if my mother had named ME after my father…"

"Oh! You are horrible!" Aerie cried, "As if it's not enough I am forced to remain earthbound, without my wings, now you have to take away my deepest desire…"

"Yeah, yeah," Istarion waved her off, "speaking of which…now that he is born, we had better take you and the boy to a safe place while we go on to defeat Melissan. I wouldn't want to risk…"

"Oh no, he'll stay with me, and I will stay with you!" Aerie stubbornly clasped the child in her arms, "I'll charm his diaper and his sling rider so he's protected."

"Aerie! We are about to face horrible demons! What if he gets hit by a fireball, or worse?"

"He'll be fine." Aerie dismissed Istarion's concerns, "we are not leaving."

Istarion looked to his friends for support, but they all pointedly looked away, obviously interested in many other things than the debate going on right in front of them.

"Cowards," he muttered. "Aerie, you are not coming, and that is final!"

"TO THE VICTOR GO THE SPOILS!" Amelissan screamed. A spell hit her from the back, one of Aeries finest. The baby strapped on her back gurgled over her shoulder.

"Get her, my demons!"

"Oh no you don't!" Minsc jumped in front of the cleric and headed off the demons while the others began to fight Amelissan.

Finally she fell.

The Solar appeared.

"You now have the choice, Istarion," she explained. Of course, the choice was not that difficult. He had a wife and a son, after all.

"Now, with your sibling's essence contained, you can give up yours and it will be destroyed…"

"Wait a second," Istarion interrupted, "what about the boy?"

"What about him?" the Solar asked in confusion.

"Well, he is my son. Doesn't he have Bhaal's blood as well?"

"Erm… never you mind."

Many years later, Istarions children ravaged the Sword Coast in their quest for power. While their mother blamed their Bhaalspawn blood, their father insisted that their ruination had begun the moment his wife had forced the name Quayle upon their eldest son thus dooming the child to eternal embarrassment.