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!”

32 – Epilogue

Brand did look for Kreet for days. Weeks in fact.

After the Mind Flayer was dead, its minions scattered – some even managed to get out of the labyrinth of caverns alive. Others fell to the kobolds and their traps. Fortunately the kobolds were well-disposed towards Karl and what remained of his party for having killed the Big Fire Person. Brand was able to talk with them and the kobolds helped them bring Karl’s son and the rest out of the tunnels safely, though when they reached the mouth of the caverns Brand did not continue with them.

Instead he stayed with the kobold clan, learning more about them as they helped him to search for his missing friend. They found the body of the Mind Flayer readily enough, but the pit ended in nothing but corpses and stalagmites. There was no river – in fact there was no exit at all. It was, as far as he or his little friends could tell, impossible that her body was not there. Yet it was not.

Even as he gave up hope of finding his friend’s body, he honored her memory by staying with the little kobold clan, which prospered under his guardianship. He taught them many things, not least of which was the art of compromise and diplomacy. But he also taught them fighting skills. The next time a band of adventurers were seen lurking around the kobold’s home, Brand was there to intercede. Neither the adventurers nor the kobolds came to any harm, and rumors began to spread among Adventurers about a growing group of tough but friendly kobolds – something unheard of prior to Brand’s presence – lurking somewhere in the depths of the underground.

Karl returned to his wife, of course, child unharmed and unaware of what had happened. Under his care, Vosa recovered nearly fully, with only some slight scarring as evidence of the attack. He took over the duties of the Cleric Quint, who went into seclusion after the incident. Some say he moved into a run-down shack in some woods not too far from Brand’s new home in the caverns.

And in the Wicked Kobold tavern, the stories of the dancing Kobold that once worked there grew and expanded to heroic proportions. Eventually Red and Cherry left the town and ventured all the way to the caverns where they met and talked with Brand. They returned with a new kobold in tow, she a young and unusually curious specimen who had practically begged to go. So the Wicked Kobold had a new mascot, but they kept Kreet’s image on the sign that swung outside in memory of their missing friend.

31 – The End

Author’s note – not sure what happened with post #30. I know I posted it – but when I came to post this, I didn’t see it so I reposted it just now. So you might (should) want to read that before this!

Her eyes went wide for a moment as she saw him turn towards the Mind Flayer. It turned to face him just as he held his hands up and she shut her eyes tight.

Through her lidded eyes, the light was still quite impressive. Fortunately it lasted only a moment. When she reopened them, Brand was on the floor, his mind obviously blasted by the thing on the throne. But it was enough. She saw the Mind Flayer obviously hurt and rising from it’s throne, screaming in her mind. But it’s minions already had their orders and it didn’t have the presence of mind to redirect them. She saw Mekelson begin to run towards it, but the thing twitched a tendril and the knight froze.

Suddenly she knew what she had to do. She shifted her mind. She became a kobold. A young, stupid and barbaric kobold. She felt the Mind Flayer trying to touch her and watching her approach, but it was unable to find her mind. She refused to don her human intelligence and the Flayer passed over her. Kreet ran at the thing. She kicked it, talons extended and it grabbed her. Its hands held her tight. It was strong. She didn’t expect it to be so strong. It held her like Brand had held her in their practices, pinning her under it as it’s tendrils encompassed her head. She felt it getting closer, touching her thoughts. In a moment it would have her. She could not kick it. Her tail was on the wrong side. But she could push. It was all she could do.

Against the stone of the dais, her tail shoved as hard as she could. It drove her and the Flayer across the floor. Then suddenly there was no floor.

The thing released her in the scant seconds of free-fall as she watched the rapidly closing light above her, the edge of the pit shrinking so fast. She thought about Brand before she hit the bottom, at once sad for her loss, but knowing he would be okay now. She had saved him. And then she died.

For the first time.

She saw two things. She saw a white light. It was warm and comforting and she was drawn to it. But she saw something else. She saw a black jewel, as black as the light was white. Pure black. It held pain, evil, distress of all manners. She yearned to go to the white light. But a voice was there. It was a voice she’d heard all her life. It was not her mother. It was not her teachers or her friends. It was not even Brand. It was her own voice.

“No, Me,” it said. “I cannot be comfortable yet. I have to go back.”

“But why? It is so cold there. I don’t want to go back! Please don’t make me!”

“We have to go back,” the voice said, contradicting her. “We have more to do.”

“I DON’T WANT TO! LET ME BE WITH YOU!”

“How can you be away from me? I am you. But now we must get cold again. We must breathe again and love again. Go on. Go to the dark.”

Kreet sighed, metaphorically. She really, really didn’t want to. But she looked back at the black jewel. She didn’t move, but she returned anyway.

She opened her eyes. She hurt in every muscle. Her eyelids hurt. She was in utter darkness, but she was a kobold. She could see. She lay on the bank of a strong underground river, naked as the day she was born. She looked up, but there was no sign of any pit that dropped her here. She looked around, but there was nothing. Then she heard a sound. A voice. Not in her head, but a real sound. It was coming closer.

A troupe of Dark Elves came around a corner and they spotted her instantly. While she had no experience with Dark Elves, she remembered them from her classes at the Monastery. They could have been taken directly from the illustrations she’d seen. Slavers.

“Well,” she thought with resignation, “a kobold’s life usually ends up short or as a slave. I suppose it’s to be expected.”

“You! Kobold! Do you speak?”

“Kreet can talk some Big People talk,” she said, mimicking how she knew kobolds speak in Common – if they ever learned how at all. It would not do to let these Slavers know of her unusual background. Or of Pelor. Yet. Maybe the life of a slave wouldn’t be so bad anyway. And there was always a chance of escape.

She thought about Brand as they took her back to where other slaves awaited. He would look for her, but he wouldn’t find her. She hoped he wouldn’t look for too long, though she knew better. Maybe someday they would meet again, if she lived that long. But she shouldn’t expect it. That was just as well. They were too different. Besides, she did want to have children of her own, and – love notwithstanding – Brand could never give her that. No, best to start her life anew.

She felt the heavy iron neck ring close around her neck as she was shackled to the other slaves and they began to walk…

The End.

30 – Distraction

She knelt on the floor, feeling the minds of the four men gone now after her ordeal – her ‘revelation’.

She
held her hands over her head and would not open them. She knew what she
would see, and she couldn’t stand it. The horror in the eyes of her
friends. She understood now why Brand had wanted to die. She did too,
but now it was too late. They knew her now. They all knew her, even
Brand. She wanted to die, but they wouldn’t forget even if she was dead.
At least Brand was still alive.

Then she felt a touch on her shoulder, and a noise in her ears that she didn’t expect.

A hand was on her shoulder. Brand was laughing.

She opened her eyes. She felt the probe of the Mind Flayer, but she pushed it aside, ducking under it.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” she said, looking up at him.

“You. We’re probably all going die or become mind-slaves and your worst sin was kicking a drunk?”

“Brand, you saw. I lost all control! He would be dead today if I hadn’t revived him. Brand, I was an animal. I am an animal!”

“Welcome to the club, Kreet. We are all animals. After what
you’ve seen, you still think you are less than us? I love you, but your racial self-loathing is ridiculous.”

“Sorry for everything, Brand. But I love you too, no matter what you did.”

Brand stood up and held Kreet’s hand. Her eyes were glowing bright blue.

“I doubt you will think that way after this, but thanks anyway.” Then he turned to the Mind Flayer, who had been oddly silent.

“Go ahead. Do what you will, Mind Flayer.”

But the thing wasn’t paying him any attention. The tendrils were writhing unusually.

“Something comes… What is it? I can’t see,” it said in their minds but not directed at anyone specifically.

A head appeared in the entrance. A kobold head.

“Big Fire Person is dead. Why are you still here?” it said in Kobold.

The
Mind Flayer wove his tendrils frantically. Suddenly the figures around
the wall unfroze. The kobold backed up out of the room, but it did not
run away. It drew a crude weapon and a sound like many small voices
yelling with battle rage could be heard outside.

“Kreet,” Brand
said quietly while the Mind Flayer’s minions headed towards the exit to meet the mysterious noises outside.

“Yes?”

“Close your eyes,” he said with a smile.

29 – Truth

Suddenly Kreet no longer was in the cavern with the Mind Flayer. She was, however, in a cavern. She knew she was far, far away from where she had been. Miles… Years… Decades. She wore armor, and under that she wore a chain mail shirt. She wielded a second-rate but serviceable sword. She had no tail, but she had… Oh my god, she was male! She felt the mustaches that were her trademark under the helm. She was Mekelson. A younger Mekelson, but she was him. She knew his thoughts, she knew his lusts, his dreams, his loves and his hates. A flood of knowledge filled her mind. In an instant she knew the man because she was the man. Knew him and loathed him. The things he had done were horrible. She closed her senses and tried to shut out the vision before her, but she couldn’t. She watched helplessly from the back of the young Mekelson’s mind as he tore through the kobolds in front of him. And they were familiar to her mind. She knew these people, but to Mekelson they were just animals. She watched in horror, unable to stop the images from flowing into her. The thoughts, the sounds, the smells…

After much too long, she found herself back in the room with the Mind Flayer. She could not look at Mekelson. She couldn’t think of him. She couldn’t stand to be near him. She looked up and saw Karl back away from him as well. But her Master, the paladin Quint’s eyes grew wide in horror. Not at Mekelson, but at the Mind Flayer.

“Don’t do this,” he said, pleading.

“Oh, you want to be next?” said a voice in their heads. “You, the great Paladin? The hero of the battle of the Cairn? The great Quint? You didn’t tell your students about this, did you. You told no one. Why? Don’t you want them to know the truth? You say you serve the great Pelor. But he was not the god you served that day, was he, paladin?

Suddenly she was whisked away to another time, another place. She wanted to stop it. She wanted to shut her eyes – but she had no control over her eyes. They were attached to the optic nerves of a younger Quint. She could not stop hearing, because the sound came from Quint’s ears. What she heard now she couldn’t stop hearing. They were babies. They may have been enemies, but they were babies. She screamed without a mouth at the mind that she was watching.

"STOP IT! STOP MOVING YOUR ARM! FOR YOUR SOUL’S SAKE, QUINT, STOP IT!”

But he could not – would not stop. He didn’t want to stop and he couldn’t hear her. She was in his future, not his now. She knew his mind in a way no one should know another’s mind. She knew why he was doing this. His friends had been slaughtered around him during the battle. The enemy had used evil magics, evil tactics, evil… evil… EVIL. Now he was divine justice, and he was unstoppable. Nothing they could do could stop him, because he had the power of the War God behind him. He would continue until every green-skinned, fanged maw was silent forever.

And Kreet knew what would happen. She knew the carnage he had wrought that day. Not one left alive. All as revenge for his own friend’s lives. He was Revenge Incarnate. Worse, she knew what would happen when he was done. She knew what would happen when the blood-rage left his eyes and he beheld what he had become. The years of loathing and self-mutilation he would endure. All knowing that what he was doing now… right now… could never be undone. These innocents could never be restored. They were lost forever.

And then she was back again. In her own body. She put her hands over her eyes, crying for Quint’s soul as much as for the loss of all those he had killed.

Quint was allowed to fall to his knees in front of Brand. They all looked at him with revulsion. Even Mekelson looked horrified at what the Paladin had done.

“My God man, at least the kobolds were attacking me!”

Quint’s mouth moved, but he couldn’t say anything. He looked at Kreet, but she couldn’t return the gaze. She was failing, she knew. The path of Pelor insisted she find the Good, help the Needy. But there was no help for this man. She had called him Master once. That she could never do again. She looked back at Mekelson. He was a fiend, but compared to Quint…

“Oh Quint,” she said, still not able to look at him. “What are we doing here? We should never have come.”

“No,” said the voice in her head. “You especially should not have. I didn’t want you! When I surveyed this other man’s mind, I saw his loathing for the woman who drove you away from your Monastery. If I could snatch the child away and bring it back here, the father must surely come. But you? You are nothing. You shouldn’t be here. You should be back at your tavern, spilling beer. These… I can use these! I would send you back, but there is one here who still holds affection for you. This ‘Brand’. And he has his own talents, I know. His rage burns hot.”

The Mind Flayer turned to Brand. “You may speak.”

Suddenly Brand fell to his knees beside Quint as if released from a self-imposed restraint.

“Kreet!” he cried, but then he ran to the dais, skirting the pit and knelt in front of the Mind Flayer.

“Please, Lord. Let me die. Don’t let her see. I beg you. Please, let me die first!?”

“I am not a cruel master, young Cleric. You may die,” the creature said with what felt like sincere compassion in her mind.

Brand turned around, facing the pit.

“BRAND!” she screamed. “NO!”

The man she had known and loved stepped down from the Dias. He looked to the Flayer, who nodded, and stepped around the yawning hole.

“Kreet,” he said, kneeling in front of her. “The Lord is true. So goddamnedly true. I’ve done things. I hated them so much for what they did to you. HATED them. That Vosa most of all. She knew what she was doing. She broke us apart, Kreet. Put you through that damned Tribunal. But…”

He looked back at the Mind Flayer.

“He twists things, Kreet. In my head. Oh gods, please let me die before you see. You were always so good. I don’t want you to see me. Not like he does it. Kreet, I am ashamed to death. I would rather die than for you to see what I’ve done this last year. I love you Kreet, in my way. Scales and tail and goofy snout, I love you. I screwed up Kreet. I screwed up bad. PLEASE let me die. Please, remember me like you did… before.”

The voice began again in her head, such a silky, caring voice, “What would you like, little kobold? I’ll let you decide. Your Lord is a merciful Lord, little kobold. You can decide. He can live and you can know the truth, or he can die and you can live in ignorance of who he really is. Which do you prefer? I promise to abide by your wishes, little kobold. He is a Cleric, true, but a minor Cleric. Nothing like this one you brought with you! I can lose him.”

“Brand! I can’t let you die! I just found you again!”

“No, Kreet, this isn’t me! What I’ve done… it’s not me anymore!”

“She’s made her decision, Brand. Let us begin.”

“NO!” Brand screamed and ran towards the pit. The tendrils on the Mind Flayer never stopped their patterns, Kreet noticed.

“BRAND! DON’T!” she called after him but he wouldn’t stop. She looked away, not able to watch him commit suicide.

But inches from falling into the pit, Brand stopped.

“No Brand. This is not what she wants. We must give her what she wants, Brand.”

“Wait,” Kreet said, standing up and walking forward. “I have a better idea. Lord, show him… me.”

“You, little kobold? Your sins are puny. What would be the point. He has so much to show you. No, let’s not. Your life is boring.”

She took hold of Brand’s hands and looked up at his wild eyes, ready to commit suicide just moments ago but prevented.

“Brand, you think I’m so good. I’m not good, Brand. No one is. We have good and bad within us, but we are constantly in transition from one to the other. We flow, Brand. Like a river, we are never the same person twice. The person I am today is not the person I was yesterday, nor the person I will be tomorrow. You are the same.”

“Yes, Brand,” said the voice. “You may speak. But step away from the pit, please.”

“Kreet. You don’t know me. I don’t want you to know me. I’m not who you think I am.”

“Of course you’re not,” she laughed. The sound was odd in the chamber, with all of the eyes on them, but she didn’t care anymore. She was holding hands with Brand, and, for a moment, that’s all she cared about.

“But Brand, your mistake is that you think you know me. You don’t Brand. I want your Lord to let you know what I am, who I am. Then, maybe, you’ll know that your sins are forgivable. We all have sinned, Brand. We can’t help it. We aren’t gods. We sin.”

“Yes, you do. Let’s look at your Kreet, Brand. Your beloved little kobold. She’s a killing beast, Brand. Behold…”

28 – Behold

The three proceeded across the blood-stained floor to an open archway. They passed within into utter blackness which only Kreet could lead them through. Karl still carried his small mace, but they had no power left to illuminate it with. For his part, Mekelson was limping rather badly, but now he was no slower than Karl with his ever-present limp or Kreet and her short, stocky legs.

It wasn’t far before they came to the end of the tunnel. Once again it opened out into a larger room, though not nearly as big as the outer cavern where they’d met the demon. A throne room.

“What do you see?” Karl whispered, mace at hand but knowing it was probably useless.

Kreet sighed. “I think we made a mistake, Karl. We should have tried climbing the rocks.”

A torch was lit at the far end of the room. She saw it was Brand that held it. He walked slowly around the room, lighting sconces on the wall and not looking at them. The men, orcs and other creatures returned from the outer space and took positions, standing stock-still against the walls. Only their breathing indicated they were not just incredibly lifelike statues. Brand stood with them, and in the center of the room was a pit – of what depth Kreet couldn’t guess.

“Welcome, my new Initiates,” said a voice in their heads. On the raised dias sat a creature Kreet had heard tales of, but hadn’t believed in. Now it’s eight tentacles writhed around where it’s mouth should have been in apparently random patterns, but those patters seemed hypnotic, drawing her eyes.

“Mind Flayer,” Mekelson said, spitting out the words.

“Mind Flayer? You humans have such lack of imagination in your words. The little kobold knows better, don’t you Kreet? You have much more descriptive names for my kind. Though truly, there aren’t any quite like me. I am unique. As I build my army, someday soon you will learn better. Some of you call us illithids. Your more scholarly minds would know of the ulitharids. I, however, call myself an octithalid. I put them to shame, honestly. As for you, why, you can call me Lord.”

Kreet stepped forward, unbidden, her little talons clicking echoes off the stone floor. It was odd hearing silence while at the same time hearing the voice in her head.

“Lord,” she began. “I will serve you willingly, if you will let my friends return.”

“Oh will you, little kobold? You must think very highly of yourself if you think you are worth more than these others. But you too are unique I see now. I wouldn’t sully myself to touch the pathetic minds of your kin. Animals at best. But you… you have a human’s mind. Maybe you needn’t die after all. Brand, go fetch the Paladin.”

Brand did as he was commanded, without a flicker of protest.

“I’m sorry, little kobold, but your powers are tiny compared to this man you call Karl. Even your Brand and the old Paladin outclass you. And the knight has some skills with a blade I can use. Now, please… shut up.”

Suddenly something like a whip snapped in her mind. She saw a tendril on the face of her new Lord snap in sync and she was unable to speak. Instead her eyes followed the hypnotic, graceful movements of the Mind Flayer’s ‘face’. She found herself back with the others, not even remembering she had walked back.

“Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? If we can avoid any more interruptions. Ah, our fried the Paladin. Thank you Brand. Why don’t you stay there. You can help the old man stand. Be gentle with the young one. It will be interesting to raise a human from such a young age.”

Brand did as he was bid and held his former Master upright.

“As you might know, slaves, we Illithids can control minds like yours. But I don’t go for the crude methods of my brethren. No, I prefer to do things a little differently. First I will break you. It is so much easier when you’ve broken ties of friendship. I will be your God from now on, and when you look at these creatures beside you, you will want nothing to do with them. And I will do this with no lies or deceptions. Only truth. The truth shall set you free. Free of your misplaced affection for these fellow creatures you brought in with you. I will show you Reality. Only then will I take over your tiny brains. You will fight for me, kill for me and die for me. I know you don’t believe me yet. They never do. Look around you. These didn’t believe me either. But here they are. You wonder how I can do this? I’ve already told you. You will see the TRUTH. Now. Behold…”