37 – Devotion

Sigmundurr grumbled, but did as she demanded.

“Thank you Sigmundurr,” Kreet said, lowering her hands.

“Fucking bitch deserved…” Sigmundurr began, but Kreet interrupted him.

Until this time, she had revealed little of her true powers to anyone since she had arrived in the Underdark. She had told only Kallid it’s source, but circumstances had required it.

“Sig, your Creator gave you a gift of manhood, but you have badly misused that gift. I cannot change your ways. Only you can do that. But I can guide you if you want me to.”

“You sound like some damned…” Sigmundurr began.

“I am a Cleric, Sig. I am a Cleric of Pelor, and not an insubstantial one at that. But we don’t coerce, we only offer guidance.”

“Figures. A fucking cleric.”

“Yes Sigmundurr. I’m a fucking cleric. If we’re going to continue traveling together, you’d best get used to it. I don’t like you Sig. You’re a force of chaos, but I don’t think you’re evil. Just… unrestrained. You could be a good person, if ever you could learn self-restraint.”

Sigmundurr looked down at the little kobold. “Restraint? I haven’t cut your damned scaly head off yet! That’s restraint!”

Kreet nodded. “Yes. It’s a start. But now I’m going to ask more of you. I want you to give Urmelena her sword back.

“The fuck you say! Not gonna happen little lizard.”

“Sig, how do you think we’re going to find our way out of the Underdark without her?”

The big man looked across the bridge.

“You think he’s going to help if you rape her or kill her? Really?”

Meanwhile, Urmelena had stopped talking, but was obviously listening intently. Kreet didn’t like the expression on her face, but this rift had to be mended somehow. She continued.

“Sig, you know the drow. You know how they are. Did you really expect her to help you? You are what you are, and they are what they are. That’s not going to change today. But we need their help.”

“She’ll stab us in the back, or have Houndril do it, at the first chance.”

“I don’t think so,” Kreet said, then looked to the dark elf. “Urmelena, what will you do if Sig gives you his sword back right now?” Kreet asked the still-prone drow.

The dark elf’s face turned contrite. “I’ll lead you on to the stairway of course.”

“That is a lie. I’ll ask you again, and you will tell the truth. Either that or we’ll try and find our way on our own and we’ll leave you both here, blind in the dark.”

Urmelena rolled over suddenly, disregarding the point of her own sword. Fortunately Sigmundurr allowed it. The rage returned to her face and she spat the words out.

“I’ll kill this overgrown man and drop his body down the crevasse, and if you think you can stop me, you’ll soon meet your damned Pelor in the next life and ask him!”

“Pretty brave talk for a blind person, don’t you think? I’ve been blinded by that light-blast before. You’ll recover your sight in time, but not soon. And your mate over there isn’t going to be able to help if a spider or worse attacks you. At this point, you can still complete your mission and keep your lives, if you want to. You need to decide that. Right this moment.”

The drow was not stupid. She considered Kreet’s words.

“I’ll do nothing,” she said finally.

“That’s right. We’ll put this bridge behind us and continue to the stairway. You will accomplish your mission and live. You mentioned giving Sigmundurr a weapon before. Do you have another with you?”

“Houndril has another sword,” she replied.

“Good. Sig, you’ll have that. Against two blind drow. Think you can take them if you need to?”

Sigmundurr smiled again and nodded.

“Alright. Now. How are we going to get Houndril across this bridge?”

Kallid spoke up then. Kreet had almost forgotten about him, but his eyes were glowing bright blue as they looked at her.

“Oh great,” she thought. “I’ve got my first devotee.”

“I can help him over!” he said with reverence in his voice. “Kreet, I can help!”

“Kallid…” she began, but at the sound of her uttering his name the blue glowed even fiercer. She gave it up. She’d have to worry about him later.

“Go on Kallid. We’ll wait here. Be careful. That spider is still down there.”

He laughed but scampered back across the bridge. “But you blinded it!”

She called back as he got to Houndril and helped the drow to the edge of the bridge. “Maybe! Just be careful!”

It took the two a minute to get back across the bridge, but even blind the drow proved his elven grace and had only a moment or two of imbalance, even across the broken bridge.

Sigmundurr had still not returned Urmelena’s sword, but at Kreet’s ‘suggestion’ the drow commanded Houndril to give Sigmundurr his spare sword.

“Satisfied?” Kreet asked the human.

Sigmundurr drew blood from his thumb testing the edge. He smiled evilly. “Satisfied.”

“Okay. Now, here’s how we’ll do this. I know you know this path well, Urmelena. You and Houndril will lead. Kallid, you stay with them and describe the path ahead. I think you’ll be able to manage like that. Sig and I will follow.”

“What about spiders?” Kallid asked.

“We’ll just have to do the best we can.”

“Little kobold… if we are attacked, you must stay away from Houndril and I. We have methods of attacking as a team, even blind. But we won’t know where you are.”

Kreet said nothing, but realized that was a good sign. At least they didn’t blame Kallid for the recent events. No doubt they hated Sigmundurr now only a little more than herself as a cleric of their enemy Pelor, but they didn’t want to kill Kallid anyway. If she could just keep the fuse unlit on this powder-keg, maybe they would still all survive after all.

There was another spider attack – three wolf-spiders this time. But now that Kreet had revealed her powers and could assist, they dealt with them quickly. Sigmundurr did receive a venomous bite, but Kreet took care of that.

Then they encountered a patrol of drow coming the other way. This was a situation she wasn’t sure how to handle. They were taking a break when a group of five drow approached from the other side, armed to the teeth and none too happy to see the human slave sporting a sword. Kreet shot a look at Urmelena as they approached.

“Urmalena,” Kreet whispered as they approached. “There is a patrol coming. You can reveal us, obviously.”

“Are you threatening me, kobold of Pelor?!”

“No. But if we come to any harm, I do promise that I will make sure that your mate Houndril is permanently blinded. I can do that.”

“He is not my mate.”

Kreet found an all-too human word suddenly very appropriate. “Bullshit.”

“I may be a cleric, but I am also female. His mistress, you are, but you also care about him. It is obvious in your every move around him. If you do not, I can’t stop you from turning us over to this patrol. But if I’m right, I think you can get them to pass on.”

Urmelena smiled as the patrol came close. Though Kreet was taking a gamble, it was the only thing she could think of. The leader stepping up to Urmelena while Kreet backed off and went to stand in front of Sigmundurr. She prayed a brief prayer while she held Sigmundurr’s sword down. The two drow spoke in hushed tones and Kreet couldn’t tell what was being said.

She had a moment of panic when the patrol leader looked back to Sigmundurr and she felt his sword shift as his grip on it firmed.

But then the patrol continued on. She didn’t relax her hold on the sword blade till the last of them had disappeared out of sight.

They reformed and began to continue on.

“What did you tell them?” Kreet asked.

“I told them we were blinded by a flash-pod and that the human killed some wolf-spiders after that. They’ll find the spiders soon enough if they didn’t believe me anyway. You’re safe. From them.”

Kreet realized something then. She lowered her tone so Sigmundurr couldn’t hear her.

“You’re not going to let us out, are you?”

Urmelena made a derisive noise then. “We will take you to the staircase. That was our command. What happens then… well, that’s up to the fates.”

“Is there anything I can do to change your mind? I don’t want to fight you, Urmelena.”

“Do you really think I would let a devotee of Pelor live, little kobold? No. You will not survive this trip. You chose your god poorly. But you will reach the staircase safely. That much I can promise. And your little mate will live. I too see much, Cleric. Find comfort in that. Until then, I suggest you pray to your god. You will meet him soon enough.”

“And Sigmundurr?”

The dark elf’s blind eyes wrinkled in anticipated joy. “He will live. But he will not remain a man.”

Kreet fell back as they continued up the path. But she was considering another path. She prayed, fervently and with a purpose. This trip was not going to end without bloodshed. Her fate and that of Sigmundurr, as well as their drow guides, were up to powers beyond her. But as she saw the little kobold’s bright blue eyes turn back towards her, she hoped he wouldn’t be hurt. She wasn’t sure she loved him – certainly not like he did her – but she did care for him. He would try to help, and probably end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

36 – Threats

Sorry for the delay. Vacation called. Back to the Kreet goodness. And here, have a cute weird Coal the Kobold from Rakkuguy too. From http://rakkuguy.tumblr.com/post/162560285891/shes-into-those-weird-things-like-handholding

Again, not Kreet and has nothing to do with the story, but I do like posting a Kobold image with these when I can.

They continued through the Underdark’s labyrinthine network of tunnels, hallways and crevices, and Kreet marveled not only at their guides’ apparently unerring path-finding, but also at the sheer size of the complex. Once she had thought the cave system she had been born in was huge – her whole world in fact – but compared to the Underdark it was but a flyspeck.

Both the drow and the two kobolds, of course, could see in the utter darkness they traveled through, but Sigmundurr required light. This irked Urmelena who had to carry a staff of light ahead of them.

“Well dammit, why don’t you just give it to me if it’s such a pain in the ass?” Sigmundurr asked her after yet another of her complaints about it, but she just grumbled and continued on.

“Seriously. It amounts to a stick to me. Just let me carry it. If we run into another one of those spiders, you’ll be free to dispatch it without it.”

Urmelena halted the group and turned back to look at Sigmundurr.

“What do you think, Houndril?”

For the first time, the male drow spoke. “I would have his head before he could swing it,” he assured Urmelena.

Kreet didn’t fail to miss the smile that came over Sigmundurr’s face at that. Nevertheless, Urmelena handed the staff of light to Sigmundurr who took it in good grace, even nodding to her as if in gratitude. Then they continued on, but he winked at Kreet, to which she shook her head ever so slightly as her eyes widened. But he just smiled and continued on following.

The spiders were an ever present menace in the Underdark. They came in all shapes and sizes as well as varying degrees of deadliness, but kobolds were naturally immune to most types’ venom. Humans and drow were not, but at least the drow had experience in how to fight them. Some time earlier they had encountered a couple of the more aggressive wolf-spiders, but Urmelena had killed both without so much as a scratch.

The really big spiders, however, they would best avoid and it was for this reason that their leader had enforced silence since the spiders tended to be attracted to noises in the normal silence of the Underdark. Once she had spotted one of these, far away across an underground lake they had skirted. It’s size was difficult to be sure of, but it appeared to be at least fifty feet from leg to leg. They’d never grown anywhere near that large in her old caverns, but then, there was no where there to contain such monstrous beasts, let alone provide enough food for them to maintain that sort of size.

But here in the Underdark life was surprisingly abundant. Mushrooms seemed to grow at every chance, along with lichen – both glowing and dormant – and other similar plant-life. The giant spider she’d seen appeared to be lying in wait for something under the surface of the lake, so underwater fish and worse were obviously plentiful as well.

And, of course, spiders were only the most common of the threats in the Underdark. Fortunately the path they followed was well traveled and was kept clear of the worst of these by regular patrols of drow, some of whom they’d passed by already. But there was always the chance of encountering the less expected Underdark dwellers. Despite the confidence and obvious skill of their guides, there were still only two of them.

They came at last to one of the rope bridges that took the path over a deep crevasse. The bridge took the form of 3 thick ropes, tied to each other occasionally by smaller guide-ropes with the largest of the three acting as the bottom of the bridge and the other two as handrails.

Urmelena indicate they would cross one-at-a-time, to minimize swaying of the rope and the weight of more than one. While the rope bridge had obviously seen years of use which might indicate security after all this time, the fraying of the strands left Kreet with no doubt that the structure was not as solid as once it had been. And knowing the Drow, it would be left as-is until it broke, and an unlucky traveler at that point had better hope he held on tight.

Of course, Urmelena went first, carrying the light staff since it was obvious that Sigmundurr was not going to be able to navigate the bridge easily with it. He gave it up without a fight, and Kreet thought she detected a bit of fear in his face. She couldn’t blame him. If the rope was going to break today, it was going to break under him most likely.

As she watched Urmelena step gracefully across, it occurred to her that the even in their arrogance, the drow were definitely elves. Their air of superiority wasn’t only due to their own inflated egos. In many ways, they indeed were superior. The rope barely swayed as she stepped off and waved for Sigmundurr to begin.

For the first time, Kreet looked over the edge. She did not see the bottom, but it wasn’t because it was too far away to see. It was because something massive blocked the view. It’s eight eyes glistened but it was still and silent as death. She drew in her breath.

“Long way down?” Sigmundurr chuckled as he stepped out.

Kreet’s eyes were wide but she put a finger to her mouth in the universal gesture.

Sigmunder tentatively stepped one foot in front of the other out over the bridge and it began to sway as the cords creaked under his weight. Kreet shot a look to Houndril. He obviously knew the monster was there too, but Sigmundurr had to rely on the light from the staff – now far away on the other side of the bridge. To him, the spider underneath him was effectively invisible, no matter how much he tried to see it.

He stopped, waiting for the bridge to stop swaying, then took another two steps. Naturally the bridge started swaying again. Kreet could see the tendons on his arms bunch as he held tightly to the hand-ropes. And then he overbalanced.

Things happened in rapid succession then. One foot lost its grip on the base rope, and suddenly the base was no longer under his center of mass. He kept the other foot on the base rope for a moment, but now all his weight was on the right hand-line. It was too much for the old rope and it snapped at the near end beside Kreet.

It did not drop away however, due to the guide lines between the hand rope and the base. However, it shifted under Sigmundurr’s weight at least four feet and was now hanging under the base rope with Sigmundurr holding on for dear life onto the broken handrail. Amazingly, the guidelines held even under his weight. They formed a sort of ladder that Sig could still use to climb back onto the base rope – if the both the hand rope and the guide ropes held.

Kreet saw he was struggling. He was amazingly strong, but the break was too unexpected. Still, at least he had not actually fallen. She looked at Urmelena. She stood passively watching the man’s struggling. She looked to Houndril.

“Help him!” she cried.

The drow snorted contempt. “If he is worthy of life, he will help himself. If not…”

She looked back down the pit. The huge thing no longer remained motionless. It was approaching, and the distance had belied its size. It was tremendous. Larger than anything living had a right to be. It stopped short of actually coming into full view and attacking Sigmundurr, who was oblivious to what was happening underneath him. He had managed to get his legs wrapped around the broken end of the hand rope and was shimmying up the rope. It was obviously a lot of effort, but he was managing it. It looked like he would make it.

Till the long front leg of the spider tapped him gently on one leg.

“The FUCK?!” Sigmundurr screamed at both the shock of the touch and the weird, incredible leg that rose from the darkness below.

Though the spider’s leg did end in a wicked sharp claw, it wasn’t using it to try and spear him. It looked to be simply toying with him. It tapped his leg again, rather gently, but that set him to swinging. He could no longer do anything but hold on.

Then it tapped him again. Gently, but just as the arc of his swing had begun in that direction. It was intentionally swinging him. The centripetal force as the arc of his swing grew larger would certainly pry him loose of his grip soon. And the spider tapped him again. It knew exactly what it was doing.

Kreet couldn’t stand idle any longer.

“Kallid!”

Her mate was watching in horrified fascination, but he looked up at her.

“Kallid, look away and close your eyes. Close them as much as you can. I’m about to do something.”

“GODDAMMIT! HELP!” Sigmundurr was screaming at Urmelena, but she stood impassively watching.

No, Kreet realized as she looked closer. Not impassive. She was smiling!

Kreet wasted no more time with warning. She held her hands in front of her and took aim at the eight eyes watching Sigmundurr who was swinging nearly perpendicularly now. She would not kill it, she knew, but she would blind it. And probably two others that she hadn’t warned. She closed her eyes tightly and cast Guiding Bolt at the thing.

The power that leaped from her outstretched hands had increased measurably with her level increase. Though even behind her lids her eyes ached with the light that still got through, the feeling of the power of Pelor flowing through her made her weep with joy. She was no powerless little kobold. She could still DO things.

Over the screaming from the two drow, Kreet heard the alien screech of the spider die away as something huge and heavy fell to a rumbling thump far below. She hoped Sigmundurr had managed to hold on. When she opened her eyes, she was – though not exactly blind – unable to see directly in front of her. But she heard Kallid moving.

The bright halo in her eyes quickly disappeared and she ignored the shouting and cursing of the drow. Kallid was out on the bridge now, pulling a guide rope up as best he could, his tail and legs wrapped around the base rope.

In a minute, Sigmundurr was back on the base rope and the two finished the crossing to the other side. Kreet scrambled across then, not having any particular fear of heights, but a fear of the thing below was certainly present.

When she got to the other side, Sigmundurr was sitting atop Urmelena, her sword in hand.

“Hi Kreet!” he said happily. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

Kreet looked at the drow, no longer screaming but uttering curse after curse at the man who sat on her back. Kreet nodded.

“Thought so. Thanks! I’d be spider-chow it if not for you. And Kallid. Appreciate it little guy, and I’ll not forget it. No thanks to these assholes though…”

He stood up but kept the point of the sword on the small of Urmelena’s back. She was still obviously blind, as was Houndril who was still on the far side of the bridge, unable to cross.

“So… thought you’d feed your little pet did you?” Sigmundurr said menacingly. Kreet didn’t like the tone of his voice.

“Sorry, afraid your ‘Little Furry Legs’ is going to have to go without Sigmundurr meat today,” he continued, and with horror Kreet realized he was loosening his belt.

“But you, on the other hand… I think you’re in dire need of some Sigmundurr meat!”

“Sig,” Kreet said quietly.

“Kreet! She was gonna fucking let that thing eat me!”

“Sig,” Kreet repeated and the big man turned back to her.

“Put your pants back on Sig,” Kreet commanded, her hands outstretched in preparation for another Guiding Bolt, and pointing at his head. He would not survive a direct Bolt from this distance and she was fully prepared to wield it.

35 – Departure

Technically they were still slaves of course. In the drow city they were in, all non-drow races were considered slaves. But fortunately the princess they had rescued had some standing with the powers there, and she sent along two drow guardians to see them through the long and perilous trek to Outside.

The two were relatively benign, at least by drow standards. They met Kreet, Kallid and Sigmundurr outside the tavern the next morning, not deigning to venture within the slave-infested common room.

“You three are to be escorted out of the Underdark,” Urmelena said unceremoniously when they stepped out of the doorway, “by order of the Princess. She requests that you be allowed some time to gather any belongings required, and not be harmed on the journey. How long must we wait for you?”

Kreet could sense Sigmundurr’s already growing anger, but she’d seen him hold it in check before when badly outnumbered. She gave him a glance that he returned with a squint.

“We’re ready now. We will follow your lead.”

“I am Urmelena. I will lead,” she replied while indicating the other guard. That is Houndril. He will follow. You three will remain between.”

“Are we allowed weapons?” Sigmundurr asked.

Urmelena laughed. “Are you a comedian, human? That was surely a joke, yes?”

Sigmundurr muttered something under his breath, but Kallid spoke up. “Um… he means when we get to the Outside. We’ll need weapons Outside!”

Urmelena looked down at the kobold and snorted. “What on earth would you do with a weapon, kobold? You’d hurt yourself!” But then she looked back towards Sigmundurr. “When we get there, I’ll provide you with something. Not until then.”

Kreet nodded, more at Sigmundurr than at their ‘escort’, and then they began. Each of the three carried a backpack of provisions, as well as part of Kreet’s remaining gold. The guards carried a small pack at their belt and canteens in addition to their spears and blades. With that, Urmelena began their journey through the streets of the underground city with Sigmundurr following her, the two kobolds behind and the silent Houndril close behind them.

“How far is it, did you say?” Kreet asked Kallid in their native language as they stumbled along to maintain pace with the larger people.

“I’ve never been myself, of course. But I understand it’s about two days away, if we’re going by the Stairway. Farther otherwise of course. You really don’t know where you are, do you?”

“I was born in some caverns, but they didn’t connect with the Underdark,” she explained as they passed crowds of drow and the occasional slave train.

There were other slaves that weren’t bound of course, but this was undoubtedly the domain of the drow.

Their leader turned her head back to look at the kobolds. “Talk now, small ones. Once outside the borders of this city, there will be no more talking. Understand?”

“Of course, my lord,” Kallid said in deference.

The drow smiled at that and turned back, satisfied.

“I am no Lord, but you may call me Lady, though I am not nobility. But, for our purposes, I will be your Lady until our journey is complete. If we are attacked, you will follow my orders. My command is to get you to the Outside alive, but accidents happen. Do not attempt to cross me.”

Kreet looked up at Sigmundurr. He wasn’t protesting, but did she see a flash of anger in his eyes? Probably. She just hoped he would hold it in till they could get out.

Though the pace was erratic for Kreet, who seemed to either be always walking too slowly or trotting too fast, she had gotten used to it in her days as a true slave before being freed from the manacles of the slave trains. She knew this was a life that many, if not most, kobolds were brought up to expect. Like Kallid, they didn’t protest. It was expected. They were born servants and would die servants, or they would live the even shorter lives of the wild kobolds like her family had been.

It was a particularly insidious form of slavery, in that for the most part they were treated well. The drow could be stern taskmasters certainly, but were no more sadistic than other races towards their kobold slaves. For their part, the kobolds didn’t exactly complain either. It was a rare kobold indeed that chose to escape from their masters since doing so also meant the loss of regular food, housing and the dangers of the Underdark which they understood all too well. Most kobolds would argue that it was a complementary relationship and totally natural that they should do the bidding of their obviously superior masters.

Even Kreet had to admit to an ingrained sense of inadequacy. She did have pride in her accomplishments, especially rising to the rank of Cleric, but that pride was made all the more important by the fact that she had risen above what anyone expected a small kobold might achieve. What she expected she could achieve! But now, seeing her friend Kallid as the simpering slave to these mere guards made her realize her own inherent racism against her own kind, and she didn’t like it. She couldn’t blame Kallid – it was the only life he knew. She couldn’t blame the drow for the same reason. But she could blame herself. She should know better by now. She had been treated, if not precisely as an equal, at least as a friend by other races. A kobold lacked the strength and the build that the drow and humans possessed, undoubtedly. But there were other things.

She held Kallid’s hand and he smiled at her sincerely. She would teach him this. Eventually. But for now, they needed to follow these guards. They left the lights of the city behind them slowly, climbing a ramping pathway with a sheer drop to their right. Even her sight couldn’t penetrate the darkness above them where they were presumably heading. Up and out. It had been a long time since she’d seen daylight and she wondered how Kallid would react to it.

He didn’t seem nervous anyway. If only he would stop looking at her quite that way – like she was something more than he was. At most she might have been a foot taller, but still far shorter than Sig or the drow. She knew he appreciated her more human-like form, but it was likely more due to the varied and healthier diet she had been privileged to eat. She suspected that any kobold female might well carry breasts like hers – her added height too – if they had that privilege as well. As for her too-wide hips… Well, that seemed to be native to the females of kobold species regardless of diet. She’d gotten used to that. She was average in that department from what she’d seen of the other female kobolds she’d met, and that made her feel better. She had been around humans far too long.

But Kallid looked at her like some sort of goddess. At least he’d stuck up for himself and not agreed with everything she’d said before. She didn’t want the father of her children to be nothing but a lap dog. So there was hope there. She couldn’t see herself falling in love with someone that just worshiped her. It had its benefits,to be sure, but that would be a hard way to live the rest of your life. Still, she would do it anyway if she were pregnant. He wasn’t a bad kobold, and he did have something in his face that appealed to her. She could imagine worse fates than to bring up a clutch with this little guy.

Finally they reached the top of the long incline and turned left into a wide tunnel where they stopped at a stream to rest. Sigmundurr whispered something to her, but she didn’t catch what he said, but Urmelena stood up suddenly and struck him across the face.

“No talking, human. You are not in the city any longer.”

Kreet stiffened, watching Sigmundurr rub his chin and eye the drow. She wasn’t sure how much Sigmundurr could, or would, take of this. It was not his nature to accept such without complaint. His eyes were hard as he stood up slowly and stared back into the drow’s face. For the first time, Kreet really looked at the two. Both drow and humans made her and Kallid look puny, but the drow could not compare with the mass of Sigmundurr. She’d seen him in action. An opponent might misjudge his mass for fat, but that opponent would be sorely mistaken. But Urmelena’s eyes flashed at his defiance and she stood her ground, not changing her grip on her spear, but Kreet saw her muscles bunch.

Houndil stood up, if only to remind Sigmundurr of his presence. It was a tough position for a drow male, Kreet had come to understand.. The female was almost always the leader of any pair, and the male had to be careful that he didn’t offend her by usurping her authority. Though he might be all too eager to help, she had better want his help or he would be punished for assuming she needed that help. Kreet wasn’t surprised that he still hadn’t said a word. That seemed to be the norm when a male drow was in the presence of a female superior.

Although he was larger than Urmelena, he was still too thin to be a proper threat to the big man. Only their spears and blades evened the odds. Yet it was enough apparently. Sigmundurr looked away and sat back down, and the moment had passed. Urmelena snorted and went back to eating, and Houndil sat back down behind them.

“Not yet,” Kreet thought. “But the moment will come, if I know this man. And I’m not certain I know who will win. Worse, I’m not sure who I want to win.”

34 – Sigmundurr

Sigmundurr knocked on her door a little later. Kreet opened the door to let the big man in. His blue eyes looked unexpectedly sober.

“Gator,” he began. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Always a plus,” she smiled and beckoned him to sit on the bed. “I’ve been hoping to catch one of you anyway. I need some things for tomorrow.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Well, I need 6 amber bottles for one, the darker the better. Some sandpaper too. They’ll have some at a blacksmith’s shop if not here. Some tools too. Mostly a good small, sharp knife and a file or rasp. Glue too. And a good length of dark cloth. Cloth you can’t see through.”

Sigmundurr repeated the items back to her.

“I’ll give you some more gold for this,” Kreet assured him, but he shook his head.

“I don’t need more gold, Gator. That’s what I came up here for.”

“What, are you rich or something?”

“No. I just don’t need gold. Ever. Handy to have a bit around, but it ties you down. You may have noticed I’m not exactly… civilized.”

Kreet laughed. “Sig, you are nearly the definition of chaos embodied.”

“Gator, I’d like to go with you tomorrow.”

She sat back in her chair at that. In many ways, he was the last person she would want to travel with them. She’d seen him go berserk at the least provocation. Murderously berserk. She didn’t want to imagine how many people he’d killed.

“Sig… you know I couldn’t stop you if you wanted to. But… Sig, I don’t like you. I’ve already tried to fight you before. You are the opposite of everything I believe in.”

“I know. But you need me anyway.”

“I need somebody Sig. I don’t think I need you. You’re too much for me to handle. I was going to ask Dinkle. Besides, you’re an adventurer. I don’t plan on this being an adventure. I just want to find my home!”

“Dinkle? He couldn’t fight off an orc!”

“I don’t know. You saw him. He’s resourceful. Plus he’s a monk. Not exactly the same as a cleric like me, but he follows a moral compass, while you…”

“Chaos,” the big man said.

“Yes. I can’t control you. I don’t want to have to try. I’m no leader, Sig. I’m not even backup. Until recently I was working at a tavern and the most excitement I’d have was a slap on the butt. I like it that way, Sig. I don’t want… this,” she said, indicating her surroundings.

Sigmundurr looked to be considering something.

“You can’t stop me from coming with you, you said.”

“Well, that’s for sure! Unless you’re bound and shackled, you pretty much go where you want.”

“I’m coming with you,” he smiled.

“Sig! No! Did you not hear anything I just said?! I don’t want you to!”

Sigmundurr stood up and shrugged, smiling. “I don’t care. I’m going with you. You need me, at least until we get out of the Underdark. After that… well, we’ll see.”

“But why? For Pelor’s sake, why would you want to?”

Sigmundurr stepped to the door, holding it open before he left. “I like you, little kobold. That’s enough reason for Sigmundurr. I don’t like people often. I will be your leader. Till we’re out anyway. I’ll get your stuff. Oh, you can come back down now. The crowd has left.”

He closed the door. This was definitely not going the way she’d envisioned at all.

She looked up at the ceiling and envisioned it in her mind. Beyond it was the roof, she supposed. A roof that had never seen rain. And above that, high above it, was the roof of the gigantic cavern that held the entire city she was in. Above that was probably miles of rock, dirt and who knows what else. Then above that was the great Outside as the residents here called it. Outside the Underdark, where light and darkness alternated. Where rain fell and wind blew and flowering plants grew. And above that was the sky. She was trained to think of that as the dwelling place of Pelor, though the presence of her own powers even here in the Underdark argued against his abode being in any specific place. Beyond that was the stars and moons. How far away they were, she couldn’t fathom. Maybe this was Pelor’s will after all. She might be a acolyte, but she knew as little as anyone how his mind worked.

Or maybe this was the work of Nerull, the God of darkness. Presumably the god of Kallid. This was undoubtedly his domain. She’d read enough about her own kind, even if she hadn’t grown up with them, to know that they worshipped and feared their god of darkness. She didn’t fear Pelor. She loved him. “It!”, she laughed to herself. She couldn’t picture the God of Light with some gigantic penis, even if that’s what all the monks she’d known had implied he must have. What would he even use it for? No, for her at least, Pelor wasn’t a man or a woman. He wasn’t a he. But “It” sounded too impersonal, and she did feel a personal connection with him. So she’d just keep calling Pelor “He” for sake of convenience. He could be a kobold for all she knew, or cared. He gave her strength, comfort and the meager powers she did possess.

As an acolyte, she felt like she was failing. As far as she knew, she’d not converted a single soul to Pelor. But her method was the method her Master had taught her – to lead them to Pelor by example, not by proselytizing. In the end, her Master had let her down when she learned of his true history, in the harshest of ways. But she still followed his methods. She knew no other way. She went on her knees. She knew instinctively that kneeling was in no way related to praying, but it did focus her mind.

Then, something happened. Something like a white light washed over her. It had happened once before, and she knew what it was. She had been Raised. Somehow, with all her mistakes and foolish actions, Pelor had seen fit to raise her to the next level. She thanked him, but was too eager to find out what new powers she had gained. The knock on the door was annoying. But she rose anyway and opened the door. Sigmundurr was there with her supplies.

“Thanks Sig! Well, I’ve accepted you are coming whether I like it or not. I don’t want too many people though, so it’s just you, me and Kallid. Just leave those on the bed.”

“That’s a smart lizard,” Sigmundurr laughed.

“Well, when a boulder comes crashing down the path at you, you don’t try and stop it. You just try to stay out if its way,” Kreet replied, not without humor.

“That’s right!” Sigmundurr agreed and patted her head. It was an annoying thing he did, and botheringly patronizing. She’d gotten used to it. Being a kobold, it was pretty much a requirement. It didn’t help that until recently she had played the part of ‘stupid little naive kobold’, and once someone’s opinion of you has been set it’s not an easy thing to change. She accepted it with good grace.

“Sig, if you’re coming with us, would you mind terribly getting supplies together? Take some coin. I’m going to be busy here for quite a while.”

“Sure Gator. 5 gold should do it.”

“Thanks Sig. And Sig…” Kreet said as he turned around at the door.

“Yeah?”

“Look… I’m sorry about what I said before. It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s just… you’re YOU, you know?”

“Always have been. No problem Gator. I know I’m a bit much. But sometimes you need someone like me.”

“And sometimes you don’t! Try and control yourself, will you? For me?”

“No promises, Gator. I am who I am. But I’ll try… a little,” he said and closed the door behind him.

She sighed and turned to the supplies on her bed. It was getting late it was going to take a long time to make two good, functional sunglasses for her and Kallid. She picked up the empty bottles and the tools and began breaking glass carefully. She’d done this so many times over the years, she didn’t so much as scratch herself. Working with unfamiliar tools was the only challenge, but it was a slow and intricate process anyway. Yet she had gotten good at it. She wondered idly while she worked if this craft making mindset was why kobolds were legendary for their trap making ability. Probably.

Finally she had finished and the night was getting late. She put away the debris, made her necessary oblations to Nature and Pelor, and crawled into bed. She didn’t have to blow out any candle – she had been working in all but pitch darkness the entire time. A bell rang from the tavern room and she heard footsteps in the hallway open and close as voices passed by her door. She recognized some of them.

Then a light knock came and she opened the door. Kallid stepped in and she took his hand, not saying anything. She closed the door quietly and locked it. Then she led him to her bed. True to his word, he didn’t try to do anything too intimate or dangerous. But she did enjoy his attentions and returned them with attentions of her own. An hour later she fell to sleep in his embrace, his head under hers. She could come to like this, she realized. Yes, she could definitely get used to this.

33 – Life #2 Awakening

Author’s Note – Starting up Life 2 of Kreet. It starts after the events of the D&D campaign that inspired Kreet so you won’t recognize the characters and setting at first, but it will be explained.

Awakening

She woke up with a terrible pain in her head that seemed to throb with the beating of her heart. She was lying sprawled across a bed in an unfamiliar room. Though she was alone, she did hear voices from somewhere not far away. As her memory returned, Kreet realized where she must be.

She’d never drank much before. Of course, working as a tavern wench she had drank a bit of mead and ale on occasion, but she’d always found the taste unpleasant and the effects it had on the patrons was not really one she was keen to experience. So she stayed away from the stuff.

Until last night. Oh Pelor! Did she really? With the kobold bartender?! What was she thinking? What if she was pregnant? The worst part was, she could barely remember it. It had been her first real sexual experience beyond her furtive and doomed fumblings with Brand, and she could barely even recall what had happened.

She sat up. At least she was alone. Probably one of the band of adventurers she had been traveling with had carried her up here after she’d passed out. She hoped. Her gold was probably gone by now. She shook her head and the room spun. Somehow, her gold seemed the most important thing in her life. If she actually had gotten pregnant last night, she was going to need it!

Kreet stumbled out into the second-story hallway and headed toward the main tavern room. A man passed by, staring at her as if he’d never seen a kobold before – which was unlikely given that this tavern specialized in catering to the smaller folk like kobolds. She ignored him. Her brain still felt mushy, so she shrugged if off. She had to know if her gold was still hers.

As she descended the stairs to the common room, she was relieved to see most of her companions were still there. Most importantly, she saw the big man she’d entrusted with it, Sigmundurr, and she saw he still kept it nearby.

Eyes began to turn in her direction and the crowd’s din quieted. She looked left and right. Why were they looking at her like that?

And then a cheer went up that resolved into, “KREET! KREET! KREET!“ She looked to her companions and the big man came over to her, after grabbing a rather dirty tablecloth.

“Kreet! Glad to see you awake again!” said the big man.

“What’s going on? Why are they… “

“Well, for one thing, it’s not often they get to see a naked female kobold,“ Sigmundurr laughed.

Suddenly she looked down as he wrapped the tablecloth around her. If she could blush, she would have been bright red. Instead her eyes turned a deep shade of violet and she tried to crawl inside her new wrapping. The squeak she let out was unintelligible in any language, but completely understandable. Kreet was certainly not any sort of exhibitionist.

“Kreet, stop that. It’s okay. They love you here!” said the giant – giant to her eyes anyway – and he pulled her back as she tried to flee up the stairs.

Kreet relented and followed him back towards the table where her companions were, but she kept the tablecloth tightly closed and pulled the corner of the tablecloth over her head in embarassment.

“Kreet!“ said the monk named Dinkle, rising as she took a chair as far away and as out of sight from the rest of the patrons as she could. “Welcome back! Shall I order another round?”

Suddenly she realized something. She turned to Sigmundurr.

“How long have I been sleeping?“

He looked at her puzzled, “Since last night.”

“We put you to bed around midnight,“ the ranger Aeverin interjected. “You’ve slept the whole day and now it’s early evening. You don’t drink often, do you?”

Kreet shook her head but then another thought struck her. Her eyes darted to the bag of gold beside the big man. “How much is left!“ she screamed as she realized the bag was considerably smaller than last she’d seen it.

Sigmundurr shrugged, but the monk smiled. “Thus far your largess to the local population amounts to exactly 128 gold since arriving. You are now officially the most popular kobold that has ever set foot in this fine establishment. There is talk of erecting a statue in your honor… and after your entrance just now, I expect the statue will be much more accurate!”

At hearing the figure, the little kobold let out another squeak and her face became forlorn.

“No more?“ the big man asked. He was a crude sort, and terribly, terribly violent. Not stupid by any means, but tended to pursue his immediate thought without consideration. Fortunately for Kreet, he’d taken a liking to her. He easily could have ran off with her gold, but he didn’t seem inclined to do so.

“Please. No more!” she managed to say over the crowd noise.

She found herself nodding as the other patrons cheered her and raised their glasses to, her smile halfhearted. And then she saw the bartender. He was beaming at her as if she were a goddess. She wasn’t sure she could face him. But then the ranger motioned him over to their table and he came scurrying up like a puppy.

“Yes? Is there anything I can do for you? Perhaps, Miss Kreet, you’d like to visit me again in the back room?“

“NO!” Kreet screamed too-loudly, but saw the hurt look on his face. He really was a cute little kobold. He stood a little shorter than her, but she was a bit taller than most kobolds. Now his eyes seemed to be glistening with impending tears. If only she could remember his name…

“I’m sorry. No, I’m… Just no. Sorry, um… what was your name again?“

“Kreet! Don’t you remember? I’m Kallid! You remember we… last night… You were magnificent!”

“I’m sorry Kallid. I’m… sure you were too. I drank a lot though. My memory isn’t what it should be.“

“What the Lady wanted, barkeep, is to shut off our tab. The party is over,” Sigmundurr interrupted menacingly.

“Oh!“ the little kobold said, looking around. “Oh, they’re not going to like that.”

The big man puffed up at that. “If Kreet says the party’s over, the party’s over. If anyone has a problem with that, they can take it up with me!“

“Oh, to be sure! Please, no need to be offended! But… maybe before I announce it, you’d like to go back to your room? It would probably be best.”

Kreet and the others nodded their agreement.

“Yes, come if you want guys. Let’s go back to my room. I need to figure out what’s happened. I… don’t remember a lot.“

“Certainly!” Sigmundurr said, rising from his chair. It banged to the floor as it lost its grip on his thighs. The ranger, Aeverin, and Dinkle the monk rose to follow, while the others chose to stay.

Once in her room, they all heard the moans from below as the announcement was made, but it was soon followed by more chants of “KREET! KREET!“.

“You’ve made quite an impression!” Dinkle said as he sat on one of the chairs while Sigmundurr and Aeverin sat on the bed.

“Guys, would you mind terribly looking away for a minute? I’d like to change.“

“What is it Kreet?” Sigmundurr asked, a concerned look on his face.

“Um… Would you mind refreshing me on what’s been happening? I remember you all, but my brain’s gone all fuzzy. Last thing I really remember clearly when we were all in that slaver’s cage.”

“The cage? You forgot everything since then?“ Sigmundurr bellowed.

“Well, I remember bits. But it’s all confused. Just… give me the basics.”

The three turned away from her while she got her clothes off the floor and put them on underneath the tablecloth.

Aeverin began, “Well, you know, that guard let us out. And then Sig killed that crazed wizard. Threw him down the spider pit.“

“Then on the way out we found that princess or whatever she was,” Sigmundurr continued.

“Right, I remember her…"

Aeverin resumed, “and we all agreed to help get her out and to this city, but we ran into some elf bitch.“

“And then you cast that disarm spell, that apparently released some cursed sword from her hand, and she turned into a cloud of locusts!” the monk concluded.

“Oh! I remember now. And that’s where…"

“Yeah… you found that gold. 1000 gold. That you tried to hide from us, but got Sigmundurr to carry for you anyway. Kreet, it’s not like we didn’t notice!“

“And I’ve already spent 128 of it…” Kreet cried, looking at the dwindling bag.

“Plus expenses…" Aeverin added cheerily.

“And my 3 gold for carrying it,“ Sigmundurr chimed in.

Kreet used a word then that she really didn’t use all that often.

The monk continued, “In addition to your room, we have 2 other rooms we have to pay for.”

“Wait! Don’t you guys have any money of your own? Why do I have to pay for everything?“

“I have 3 gold,” Sigmundurr confessed. Kreet rolled her eyes.

“Kreet, until a couple days ago we were slaves. Not exactly a good paying job,“ Aeverin pointed out.

“Oh, dammit. So what do I have left after expenses?”

‘You still have exactly 742 gold left,“ the monk said, that annoying smile still stuck on his face.

“I guess I’d better give you guys some,” Kreet said, her eyes now a smouldering blue.

“That would be a nice gesture,“ the monk smiled.

“There are 9 of us.”

Kreet began doing some calculations in her head. She’d never been trained much in mathematics, and it made her head hurt.

“Might I suggest 25 gold each? That would come to 225 altogether, leaving you with 517.“

The monk’s smiling face was beginning to really grate on Kreet’s nerves as he calmly told her she had essentially lost half her fortune in one day. But then she sighed. What would a kobold do with money anyway? She was a cleric of Pelor and had spent it on drink and… debauchery.

“I guess that’s fair. Dinkle, you’re obviously good with math. Would you mind handing it out to the others? But I’d really like to try and get home now. I’ve had enough of this adventuring, and I have no idea where I am.”

“Certainly, Kreet,“ said the monk and he began counting out the coins nearby.

“You’re not staying with us?” Sigmundurr asked. As powerful and fierce has she’d seen him, she’d come to like him for some reason, even if she’d used her own small magic against him on occasion already.

“No Sig,“ she said. “I need to try and find my way home. I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of a small town named Fallon? There’s a Monastery of Pelor right beside it?”

Her three companions shook their heads.

“Never heard of it,“ Aeverin admitted. “And I’ve travelled extensively. But I guess it is time to break up this little group. I’d like to get back home myself. And the sooner we get out of this town and the Underdark, the less likely we’ll be enslaved again.”

The three left Kreet in her room then, each 25 gold richer, and with the monk taking the rest of the gold for the others, but not before Kreet asked Sigmundurr to ask the bartender up to her room.

As the door closed behind them, Kreet sighed and looked at the little bag of gold remaining. Still a bit much for a kobold to carry, but far easier than she wanted it to be. She was no longer rich. Now she was middle-class at best. And she had no idea how to get home. She looked at her belly.

“Is there anybody in there?“ she asked it. “I’m not really ready for you, you know.”

A knock came at the door. “It’s me, Kallid!“

She cringed at the eagerness in his voice. “Come in Kallid.”

His eyes were as bright as candles. He looked so cute, she felt bad having to dash his hopes, and briefly considered whether she might… just one more time…

But no, that would just make an untimely pregnancy even more likely. Instead she shook her head and patted the bed beside her. “Sit here, Kallid. Talking is needed,“ she said in kobold, knowing she couldn’t speak it as well as a native.

The eyes dimmed a bit. He couldn’t hide it, but he sat beside her.

“Kallid… last night. It was… mistake.”

Kallid responded in the Common tongue, “Certainly. You don’t know me. You just wanted to fuck.“

“I did. But it was a mistake. I can’t stay here. I have to go to my home, and my home is Outside.”

“You live Outside?“

“I do, Kallid. I was born in a place Under, but now Outside is all I know. I want to return.”

“I understand,“ Kallid said, putting his hand on hers. “But, what if…”

“That’s the problem. Kallid, if I am pregnant, I will raise your children well. But I will raise them Outside.“

Suddenly his eyes turned sad. “Outside? How can I see them if they are Outside?”

“I’ll teach them. I’ll tell them about you. They will come to visit.“

“But… they won’t know me. No. This must not happen. I will go Outside.”

“Would you do that?“

“If… I will, if you have my children in you.”

Kreet smiled, for the first time since she’d woken up.

“Kallid, you don’t have to. I have gold. You don’t need to change your life for me.“

The bartender looked at her, a flash of anger in his eyes.

“Not for you. For them!” he said, and touched her belly. Kreet had not been raised with a clan, and casual touching by others wasn’t something she was used to, but she held his hand to her belly.

“You are a good kobold, Kallid,“ she said, suddenly realizing that this kobold was not just a bartender and a ‘bold looking for somewhere to put his penis. He was a complete person, with a history and a morality every bit as valid as her own. Her story had intersected with his. She had offered him a way to let them separate again, but he was having none of it.

“Kallid, I… really don’t remember much. I’m sorry to have interrupted your life so, for my own drunken pleasure.”

He laughed – a short, barking sound. “Your pleasure was my pleasure, Kreet! You think I like working here? I do not. I don’t know what life is Outside, but I will go with you, if you will have me.“

She thought about that. It wouldn’t be fair, of course. But she could use the company. And if she proved not to be pregnant, he could just return.

“Even if we don’t do any more bumping?”

The kobold looked at her, his head cocked to one side. “No more bumping? Why not? You liked doing it with me last night.“

“Because, silly, I don’t want to be pregnant!”

“Oh,“ he said. “Oh… you don’t want to have my babies.”

“Well, Kallid, I only met you last night. Surely you understand…"

Kallid brightened up. “That’s true. But if I come with you Outside, you will know me better! Maybe then you will….“

“Okay, that’s fair enough. But, don’t expect it, okay? I’m really not the kind of kobold you thought I was. I am a cleric of Pelor.”

That caused a reaction, certainly.

“The lord of Light? A kobold? You are making a joke.“

“No, Kallid. I’m not. I am a cleric of Pelor and I want to find my way back home. Are you still sure you want to come with me?”

He considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “My babies must be shown the foolishness of their mother’s ways. I will come.“

“Well then, you’d better make preparations. I leave tomorrow morning.”

“Can I… sleep with you tonight?“ he asked, eagerness in his eyes.

“Really? You want to sleep with me?”

His eyes began to glow again.

“Well, okay. But no bumping, right?“

“Sure Kreet! No bumping! Until you know me better… I mean… well, until you like me better?”

“That’s more like it. And no promises. But… Yes. Until I like you better. Or I’m pregnant. Then, I guess I might as well!“

The door closed behind the little kobold, his eyes now glowing every bit as much as they had when he’d come in.

“Well that didn’t go as I expected!”, Kreet thought.

But she had to admit she felt better knowing she would have a companion at least. And, if she turned out to be pregnant, she would have the father with her. She could just start her own clan, after all. It’s what she’d dreamed of, before him.

Brand. There were people she needed to find. It was home. She thought of Brand, and then Kallid.

“Oh Pelor,“ she said aloud as she flopped back onto her bed. “Pelor, help me. Guide me through this. I don’t know what I’m doing!”

17 – Adoption

In the end, Kreet did manage to improvise a modified version of her plan for the lavatory, and all agreed it was ingenious. Just inside the door she had Nick build a little trough of sorts, which sloped down to a tube made of sheep’s bladder, which in turn ran into the cesspool below. She even suggested a curved back edge that would direct the flow away from the customer and prevent splash-back. Though they did share duties, Wynda in particular really liked the new setup.

“Well then, if you’re so smart, Gator, maybe you can help figure out how Nick can clean the mugs quicker?” Red suggested.

“I’ll think about it!” Kreet shouted back over the din of the customers surrounding her table and clapping as she danced again. They seemed to really enjoy watching her dance, even after she’d resolved her tail fit issue. She reflected momentarily as she spun around one more time that the Master Cleric was right. Time and life do move on, and in ways you can’t foresee. As the conclusion of her dance, she flung herself backwards, counting on the patrons to catch her – which they did of course. If a few hands strayed a bit longer before setting her back on her feet, that was to be expected.

“Again!” a they shouted, but she waived them off.

“Enough for now boys, give a girl a break will ya? Your wives must be exhausted!”

She left the laughter behind her as she went into the back room for a break.

“You’ve gotten pretty good handling them, Gator,” Ashley said.

“Thanks!”

“That crack about their wives – very good. Builds their ego while reminding them that they have wives. Nice,” she continued, but Kreet didn’t miss the sarcastic tone. She was surprised to hear that. She’d always gotten along well with them all, Ashley as much as the others. She sat beside the girl.

“What’s your problem? Somebody pinch your tit?” she said. ‘Giving as good as you got.’ Cherry called it. In this group, if someone makes fun of you or insults you, you give it back. An odd form of camaraderie, but it worked.

Ashley sat back, legs splayed in what Cherry would have called a “most unladylike manner”. Kreet had learned posture meant a lot more than she’d ever realized here. While the girls were supposed to be somewhat ‘slutty’, there were rules even of posture that couldn’t be broken out there. So naturally, when on break and out of sight of the customers, that was the first thing to go.

“Sorry Gator,” Ashley apologized, scratching her armpit.

Kreet looked at the girl. She noticed her eyes were red. “What is it Ash? Do you want to talk about it?”

Ashley looked at her. “What would you know about anything. You’re a lizard! You don’t even get monthly blood.”

Kreet nodded. “That’s so. But I can still listen.”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“Oh?! A blessing from Pelor! Congratulations! But why the crying?”

“Because the lout that stuck it in me doesn’t want it. Or me.”

Kreet looked at her sideways. “Doesn’t want it? What on earth do you mean? He doesn’t want his own child?”

She shook her head. “He doesn’t want me anyway. It’s kind of a package deal. I was stupid. Now I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t work here after I have a baby. Jeeze Gator, what am I going to do?”

Kreet sat and thought. This was new. She’d never contemplated that people might not want to have a child! Deep down she knew it was something she had always dreamed of but could never have. She couldn’t imagine how anyone would not want one.

“Does he know?”

“Hell, I don’t even know. But it’s been a long time, Gator. Stupid, I know.”

“Not so stupid, Ashley. A mistake maybe, but we all make them from time to time.”

“Not like this. This sort of mistake will ruin my life.”

Kreet took the girl’s hands in hers. “Ashley, what will be will be. What you see now as a curse may well become a blessing though. Think about what it would be to have a child. A little life that looks up to you as their world. Your life will change if this baby is born, of that there is no doubt. Life does that. It changes. But Ashley, a BABY! Ashley, that’s no curse. That is a blessing from Pelor.”

“Easy for you to say,” Ashley spat out, “You’re not pregnant. I heard there’s an alchemist over in Ridley that can get rid of it.”

Kreet stared at her. “Get rid of it?”

Ashley choked up and couldn’t continue. It was then that Kreet understood. She kept her voice calm.

“You must do what you think is right. It is not the will of Pelor that you should have to make this commitment before you’re ready, Ashley. There is a maxim at the Monastery that took me years to understand, but I am beginning to. Life is not light, and Death is not darkness. It is a hard precept to grasp, and only experience can illuminate it. There are followers of Life that proclaim that all life is good, and who say all Death is evil. But Pelor teaches otherwise. We often agree with the followers of Life, as we often fight against followers of Death. But Life and Death are not Good and Evil. There are times when Good comes from Death, and there are times when Evil springs from Life. It is a hard thing, and Life in this case has brought you a burden you’re not ready to take on. This is evil. But Ashley, I am ready.”

Kreet closed her eyes and prayed for insight from Pelor. Whether the answer came from him or from herself, she couldn’t say. But her faith answered that question.

“I’ll take it, if you don’t want it Ashley.”

The girl looked up at her. “Really? Oh you’re joking. You couldn’t raise a human baby.”

“I was raised by a human monk. A man who had never had children of his own. Yet, he burdened himself with me willingly and with love, and did good job of raising me too. It is time for me to repay that and find out if I am as qualified as he was. Ashley, you don’t need this man. All that is required is love.”

“And gold…” she began to cry.

“Gold comes and goes. But you are loved here – and if you are loved you will never go hungry. That is a teaching of Pelor, and one I believe in. If you don’t want this child, please let me have it. I want to love and to be loved by it. It would be the greatest gift anyone has ever given me.”

As the words left her mouth, Kreet realized she meant every word. Her eyes teared up, mimicking Ashley’s but for a completely different reason. Ashley saw darkness ahead. Kreet saw only light. And her words carried conviction. Ashley brightened up. Kreet had given the young woman hope, and that made all the difference. This was not how Kreet imagined she would spread the Light of Pelor, but she saw it now. This was one way at least.

15 – Excommunicated

Kreet found herself outside of the Monastery, stripped of her clerical robe, title, and alone. As she walked past the house where Karl and Vosa lived, she thought for a moment that she saw Vosa looking out at her before the window shade was drawn. On the walls of the Monastery beside the gate, a lone monk looked down on her. He waved his hand to her and she returned it. That was nice of him, she thought. She couldn’t hate those within. At least, not all of them. Her years of training had left her with a profound respect for the teachings of Pelor and the Way of Light. Her benefactors had bent every rule they could to accommodate her, but she had broken even those rules in the end. Still, regardless of the circumstances of her expulsion, she held her head high. No matter what they might say, she was a Cleric of Pelor now. They couldn’t take that away as much as they might wish it. Officially she was excommunicated from the Sect they belonged to, but she needed no official sanction from them. Her mandate was from Pelor.

She had not been allowed to see Brand though, and that hurt. Vosa’s graphic depiction of the scene when she’d walked in on them unannounced had been all that was needed. Later, in private, the Master Cleric had explained to her of the factions, both within and outside the Monastery, that had aligned against her. They were just waiting for something like this to happen. It was an excuse, really, he explained. They were never going to allow a female kobold to become a recognized Cleric, regardless of the Abbot or Master Quint’s wishes. Behind closed doors when he was allowed to speak freely, he gave her his blessing and assured her that, regardless of this travesty, she was a full Cleric of Pelor. The God of Light didn’t care, and her Master’s reassurance meant all the difference to her.

Along with that assurance, she had left with a little gold, a new nondescript robe, and some advice. Even Karl hadn’t spoken to her when her banishment was announced. He would have been torn between their friendship and his new wife and mother to his child, of course, and that was a battle she couldn’t hope to win.

So she walked towards the town, not knowing where her future lay. She took solace that they couldn’t take away her knowledge. A Cleric of Pelor she remained, if without affiliation. They could keep their robe and their badge. She had learned all she needed. What she didn’t have were any prospects. Evening was already falling, and she found it hard to believe that only last night, for the briefest of moments, she had been in the arms of her only love. Already it felt like years had passed.

She walked down the path and saw the lights of the town beyond begin to flicker to life, and she contemplated what had happened. In the darkness, perhaps, he had been able to overlook her reptilian body, and she had been able to imagine they could have a future together. It was beyond foolish. It was ludicrous. It was obscene. It was perverse. But for a few minutes it had almost felt possible. Until the door opened.

She closed her eyes and walked into the town. A new chapter in her life was about to begin. Perhaps the Master was right. She had only rarely visited the town, but she knew it well enough. Tonight it would have to be the tavern. “The Wicked Serpent”. Oddly appropriate, she thought. She opened the door.

Within the boisterous laughter quieted a little at her entrance, but soon picked up again when Red saw her and sat with her at a table.

“You’re Kreet, right? What is it, Kreet? What are you doing here alone at this time of night?”

“I’ve been excommunicated, Red.”

“Excommunicated? Really?! But you’re their star Acolyte! A kobold Cleric!”

“Not anymore.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Kreet looked into the woman’s eyes. This woman was a complete stranger, yet she wanted to help. Pelor was here, she was certain.

“Red, you don’t even know me. But… If you mean it… I think I need to talk to someone.”

“Girl, that’s what we do here. We’re not just drink deliverymen and eye-candy, no matter what some might think.”

Red took her by the hand, ordered two strong drinks from the bartender, and informed him that she would be taking the rest of the night off. Then she led Kreet into a small sleeping room on the second floor.

“Here, take a shot of this Kreet. Then tell me all about it.”

The drink went down hot. The little kobold closed her eyes and felt it do it’s work as a tear fell onto her lap. She didn’t like that she was reduced to pouring out her heart to a stranger, but now everyone in the world was a stranger. She might as well get used to it. She started her tale, beginning with the bachelor party and ending with the lurid scene from last night and the hastily convened tribunal.

Red sat listening as if she were a trained Counselor. Kreet thought of her own Master briefly, but found herself too grief-stricken to care. The alcohol lubricated her tongue and she let it all spill out, telling the woman things she wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone except a complete stranger. When she’d finally finished, Red sat beside her on the bed with her arm around the sad kobold.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any words that will make it better, Kreet. What’s done is done.”

“What’s done is done,” Kreet repeated fatalistically. “And now I’m lost.”

“You could stay here, girl. If you’d like to.”

Kreet looked up at her. “Stay here? I don’t think the bartender would approve of that,” she laughed through her tears.

“The bartender? Pah. What’s he got to do with it? I don’t pay him enough to make decisions around here!”

“You? Pay him?”

“Look girl,” the owner of the Wicked Serpent said, calling her ‘girl’ for the third time, Kreet noticed. “I don’t publicize it, but this is my joint. Well, mine and Cherry’s. You can stay here as long as you like. But if you do, I’ll have one request.”

Kreet sniffled again, but her mood was improving. “What’s that Red?”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Tonight, you stay here with me. Life just gave you one hell of a kick in the ass, girl. Cry it all out if you need to, or drink it out. Tomorrow, when you’ve gotten yourself back together, we’ll talk business. You don’t have to stay here if you change your mind. Tonight there’s no strings attached. If you do stay though, you’re going to have to work, and it’s not all pleasant. But it’s a living. For tonight, just consider it as an option.”

“Oh thank you Red,” Kreet cried, lapsing back into tears again and hugging the woman tight in appreciation. Red held Kreet through the night, as promised and against her own expectation, Kreet actually managed to fall asleep in the arms of this stranger.

The next day Red was still sleeping beside her when Kreet awoke. She looked at the sleeping woman. The morning light crept in through the window and Kreet noticed the lines around the woman’s eyes for the first time. She had seemed much younger last night. The swell of her bosom opened a fresh ache in Kreet for what she couldn’t have, but that was just momentary. She nestled back into this stranger’s arms and dozed off again. A stranger she may be, but she was a stranger who took her in and gave her hope. No matter what the cost, that meant something.

Later when Red awoke, she had breakfast sent up and they ate together.

“So, have you thought about my proposition?”

Kreet nodded. “But, you know… no matter what rumors you might hear from the Monastery, I can’t… you know. Be with men like that.”

“Kreet, let me tell you a little secret. We don’t do that here. At all. EVER. Sure some of the customers think we do, but no. Absolutely not. So that won’t be a problem. You will get the occasional pinch or grope, I’ll not sugar-coat that. But anything beyond that and we’ll take care of the problem. The work here isn’t just getting your ass slapped though. Hell, that’s the fun part! No, every evening is a sort of performance, Kreet. It’s a dance and a tightrope walk. You have to act like your dearest desire is to spend more time with ‘Ian the Sweaty Farmer’, yet always find a reason you can’t. You have to deliver the drinks but always be on guard for the guy who gets angry-drunk and cut him off before he gets that far. It’s not as easy as you might think. Most of our guests are regulars though. You’ll get to know them, and they’re really mostly decent folk. We’re just where they go when they want to spend some time away from their normal life. Do you understand?”

Kreet nodded, “I understand. It’s a game.”

“Yes, a game. They bring us money, we get them drunk and let them dream of a life they can never have. That’s pretty much the deal.”

“But… well, obviously, I’m a kobold. I don’t even have… you know. I’m not sure anyone’s really going to care.”

Red laughed, “Girl, you don’t know men. You’ll be popular enough, I promise! You’re exotic, and you’re sweet. That’ll trump boobs… with most of them anyway.”

Kreet considered the offer. Actually she had been considering it seriously. It carried a sort of revenge too, she had to admit. The Monastery had rejected her because they deemed her a bestial harlot? Well, she could work here and prove them exactly right. Having an ex-Acolyte working as a tavern wench right next door. That would surely sting. She couldn’t deny it had a certain appeal.

“I accept, Red. And thank you for everything. I will begin my Apostlate here! Despite everything, I am still a Cleric of Pelor – sanctioned by the Monastery or not. This can also be training of a sort that they’d never teach me at the Monastery. This will be my training in real life. And who knows? Maybe I can convert a few souls while I’m here!”

“That’s the spirit, though good luck with the conversions, Kreet. But you will learn a lot. Alright then, first we need a nickname for you. Obviously Red isn’t my name, it’s Kyleen if you want to know, but we all go by nicknames here. There’s me and Cherry and Ashley and Wynda, and the Bartender is Nick. There’s some others you may meet as well eventually. I’ll introduce you to everybody later. Got any ideas for a name?”

“Gator. Call me Gator.”

Red laughed. “Gator it is!”

And with that, Kreet began her new life as Gator the Tavern Wench. Of course word got around before the end of the day that the kobold from the monastery was now working at the Wicked Serpent, and rumors of the reason for her expulsion grew and expanded. By the end of the week the tavern had been unofficially renamed The Wicked Kobold, and despite the ever-more-lurid tales of her fall from grace at the Monastery, the tavern became more popular than ever as people came to see the Talking Kobold Wench.

Kreet soon found that, rather than being ostracized as an exile from the Monastery, she was instead viewed as a sort of heroine. She said nothing against the Monastery, but the common belief by the end of the week was that those perverted monks had forced her into unnatural sexual congress and that she had escaped their clutches. It seemed the townspeople always had their suspicions of what went on at the Monastery, and her expulsion played right into that.

“That’s probably why we don’t see any Monks in here anymore,” Red said around the lunch table as the girls were cleaning up from the previous night a few weeks later. Indeed, since she arrived, Kreet had met no one from the Monastery at all. She had secretly hoped Brand or Karl at least might drop in, but neither ever did.

“What really happened, Gator? Did they really make you take showers with them?” asked the elder of the other three, and Red’s partner – the blonde woman named Cherry.

“You really want to know? They weren’t anything like that really. Mostly they are kind and gentle men – but they only had the one shower room, and you know I’m not exactly a turn-on to men, so yeah, I shared the showers with them. But nothing even remotely happened like that.”

“Well, Kevin from the bakery seems to think you’re hot stuff!” Ashley said.

Kreet found herself laughing, something that only a week before she wouldn’t have thought possible. “Kevin thinks Nick is hot stuff.”

“HEY!” the burly bartender called from where he was cleaning the mugs behind the bar, “Don’t get me involved!”

14 – Letting the Days Go By

The wedding of Karl and Vosa went without a problem, and if there was a coldness between Vosa’s First and Karl’s First, it wasn’t noticed by anyone but themselves. As planned, Karl and his wife moved into the shack outside the Monastery and made a home there. Karl was promoted to First Level Cleric some months later and began teaching the other Acolytes. Though not a True Cleric, in that he didn’t venture forth into the world, nonetheless his mastery of the magical aspects could not be ignored and he was a good teacher.

For her part, Kreet threw herself into her studies more than ever, but her physical training sessions with Brand did not resume. This obviously did not escape the notice of her Master, but since neither her nor Brand seemed to want to discuss the matter, he did not persue it.

More than a year passed and Karl’s new baby boy kept him at home when he wasn’t teaching, so Kreet saw little of him. Mostly she saw the inside of her room which she kept dark these days. Her unique vision allowed her visibility in total darkness, and she liked it dark. She also began studying the kobold language. She had been speaking the human tongue so long, she realized she had all but forgotten her own. The books Ka’Plo had written along with his own books on the subject and her memory helped as well.

“Kreet, could you come into my room for a few minutes,” the Cleric Quint said to her one day after her class.

Kreet nodded, responding in Kobold and following him into his private chamber.

“Kreet, I don’t know what’s been happening with you. You’ve become reclusive and I’m worried about you. Is there something you want to talk about?”

“Master, I am preparing for my Apostolate. I wish to bring the light of Pelor to my own kind. I must remember what it is to be a kobold in order to do that.”

“That is good. I feel you are ready for that. Brand as well. We wait only for the spring to arrive – the traditional season to inaugurate new Clerics. Karl was, of course, a special case.”

Kreet nodded.

“Are you considering travelling with Brand?”

Kreet’s eyes turned dark and she muttered something. “I will not,” she said flatly.

The Cleric let some time pass before responding, “You are both fine people, Kreet. And traveling with a fellow Cleric is an honorable and traditional way to begin the rest of your life as an Apostle of Pelor. Will you not consider it?”

Kreet started to reply immediately, then hesitated. Her training asserted itself. Do not be too hasty in decisions, she told herself.

“I… will consider it.”

And so she did. She considered her feelings for the boy – no, she had to admit, he was no boy any longer. Brand was a man. She still felt something burn within her when she saw him, but the time they had spent apart had helped her to heal and focus on other things. She was looking forward to her future life actually, which was something she could not have said a year before.

But, actually travelling with him… It would probably open old wounds that had only barely begun to heal. Wounds that were not his fault, but nonetheless hurt her deeply. She thought about that too. Embarassment, really. Embarassment is such a self-centered feeling. It assumes the whole world is looking at you and laughing at you, when the world might have just glanced your way once, chuckled, and moved on. But embarassment insists they are still looking, remembering, judging and finding you wanting.

A knock came at her door. She knew it was Brand immediately. She opened the door and ushered him to a chair, then closed the door bringing on utter darkness.

“I can’t see anything you know, Kreet,” he said.

“I know. I like it this way. What do you want, Brand?”

“I just was talking to the Master,” he began.

“About the Apostalate. And travelling together?” Kreet said, laying back down on her bed and watching the blind man try to face her in the darkness.

“Yes, about that. Kreet, I know what’s been going on between us. I wish I could fix things.”

“You know I plan to go underground, right? I’m going to try and find my own kind there,” she said, practically ignoring him.

“I know. But I could come too. You’ll need some help. Kreet, they might kill you on sight. Inter-kobold wars aren’t unheard of you know.”

“Read up on your Kobold have you?”

“Yes Kreet. I know what you’re doing – what you’re planning for. I have been studying too.”

Kreet switched to the kobold language, “Have you? What am I saying then?”

Brand responded, after a short pause while he was obviously working out the words, in passable kobold, “I have. You are asking me what you are saying.”

Kreet smiled. “You have been studying!”

“Kreet, about that night…”

Suddenly two red orbs flashed and Brand could see a little of Kreet’s face.

“Brand, shut up. To say that I don’t want to talk about it would be a gross underestimate. Forget about that night. I was stupid, okay?”

“Jeeze, lighten up Kreet! You’re glowing red! Okay, consider it forgottten.”

“It’s not forgotten, Brand. I just don’t want to talk about it. But as for us travelling together. Do you really want to?”

“I really do, Kreet. I want to begin my Apostalate with you.”

The fury abated and her eyes stopped glowing while she considered this.

Finally she crossed to the door silently, testing her ability to do so and she didn’t miss the fact that Brand did not turn to follow her. She opened the door and the light streamed in from outside.

“I’ll consider it, Brand. If you really want to come with me… REALLY want to… keep studying my language. I’ll talk to you again about it in a few days.”

Brand jumped a bit at her voice coming suddenly from behind him as the door opened and he saw her standing there.

“Jeeze Kreet, you scared me!”

The little kobold walked over to him and touched his hand. “Brand… I’m not a human. I feel like I’m only now beginning to understand what that means. For all my life I’ve been trying to be human. That night… I failed. I failed miserably and it took me a long time to realize why. I’m not a human, and I need to get better at being a kobold. If I frighten you while doing that, I apologize. But I am what I am, and I need to stop trying to be anything else.”

Brand nodded and stepped out into the light of the hallway. Kreet closed the door and lay back on her bed, looking at the door in the black light of her cell. She felt so much less certain that she sounded. What she said was all true, but she also knew she could never be totally kobold either. She may have the shape, but her mind was still far too human. And his hand had been so goddamn warm.

A few days later Kreet invited Brand back to her room. She was supposed to just talk about their future Apostalate together. But in the darkness, they talked for hours. Though she thought she had hardened herself in the months since that night after the party, Kreet realized she had only been fooling herself. Her feelings hadn’t changed – they’d only been covered.

Then, somehow, they were no longer talking and the only light in the room came from Kreet’s glowing blue eyes. This time the kiss meant a lot more, and she felt his arms wrap around her like her own arms wrapped around him. Warmth flooded her heart and the light went out as she closed her eyes and forgot about the world, for just a moment.

Until the door opened.