19 – Quest

In fact, someone did try to mess with Gator later that night. She’d gone out to dump the dirty, bloody water out when a figure approached from the side of the Tavern. He must have thought he was sneaking up on her, she thought, but Gator spotted him instantly.

“Back for more Garth?” she asked, not even turning around. “He was right you know. I’d nip your pecker off without even thinking about it. Sure you want to do this again?”

The figure retreated into the night without a word and she chuckled. If truth be told, she had actually been a little frightened. She was still a small kobold. But he was no warrior either. Had she not retracted her claws before that kick, she would have eviscerated him. And that, she thought, would take a real miracle to recover from.

Fortunately the two weren’t seen again in town, but the scrappy little kobold’s reputation certainly gained some appreciation. She noticed she didn’t get as many butt-slaps as she had before. Oddly, she vaguely missed that. There was something weirdly comforting about knowing the patrons well enough, and them being that at-ease around her, that they could take that liberty. It was a small price to pay for the newfound respect she had gained, she supposed. It wasn’t the last fight she got into, but it was the most serious. Nick and the others didn’t worry about her anymore. She clearly could handle herself.

Over the next two years, she did become a minor celebrity of sorts. She still stayed off the streets during the day mostly, more to avoid the direct sunlight than to avoid the townsfolk though. She also got her boobs, at least a little. Nothing like the human women of course, but she felt good that she actually had a little something to cover with her blouse finally. The monks continued to avoid her, but that was to be expected. She’d heard rumors that the Abbot had died and the new Abbot had a strict prohibition against any fraternization with her or the Wicked Kobold.

She had done the favor that Red had requested so long ago as well. She had posed for a new sign above the door to inaugurate the official name change. If the woodcutter’s work was somewhat idealized, she didn’t mind. Alright, she thought, idealized was being generous. He definitely had not modeled her body from life, but from his obviously oversexed imagination.

Once again, though she hadn’t expected it, she’d found a home again. People were in the main, good. Life was good. And if sometimes late at night she would lie awake and wonder what had happened to her old friends at the Monastery, it didn’t bother her overmuch.

And then, one evening late in the year, as the leaves were beginning to fall and the temperature began to cool, she was walking back to the Tavern from buying some produce at the nearby market when a whiff of smoke caught her nose. Far in the distance, she thought she heard a bell ringing. Automatically she turned towards the woods that separated the town from the monastery and saw a dark cloud rising from beyond that would have been invisible to humans. She hurried to the tavern.

“What is it Gator?” Red asked, seeing her worry.

“Something’s happening at the Monastery. A fire or something.”

“Well, that’s not your business anymore, is it?” Ashley said, putting away the vegetables Kreet had brought in.

“I… I guess not. No, you’re right. It’s not my business,” Kreet concluded.

An hour later, it came through the door and became her business in a big way.

She recognized Karl instantly, though he’d grown a beard since she’d last seen him. If the limp didn’t give him away, the eyes certainly did. With him was a man clad in steel, a rarity in the rural town. An Adventurer. She knew him too.

“Mekelson. What are you doing here?” she asked, scowling.

“Demon raider,” he said between gulps of air. “At the Monastery.”

“Another Demon raid? For Pelor’s sake, why aren’t you back there fighting them?”

“Gone,” Karl said, and for the first time she noticed the wild look in his eyes.

“Gone? Then what…”

“They took my boy, Kreet. They took little Paulie!”

“WHAT?!”

Mekelson shook his head, “They didn’t just attack the Monastery, Kreet. They took Karl’s boy. His wife’s in a bad way too. Kreet, we need you.”

“ME? Why me? Go after them!”

“We will, but only you can guide us. Kreet, they came from your old warrens.”

“Wait… how can you know that?”

“Brand,” Karl said, the light in his eyes looking desperate.

“Brand told you? How would he know?”

Karl shook his head. “No Kreet, Brand was with them. Brand took my boy!”

Kreet’s mouth dropped open, not believing what she was hearing.

“Come on kid,” Mekelson said, “We can’t waste time here. We’ll explain on the way. But no one knows those caverns like you do. We’ll never find them without you.”

Kreet looked at her friends around the tavern. Ashley looked worried, as did the rest of them, but Red nodded. “Gator… Kreet. Follow your light. Do what you can. But be careful!”

“I will. Thank you all, for everything. I’m no Adventurer, you know. If I don’t come back…”

“You’ll come back,” Cherry said. “We just changed the sign!”

They all laughed nervously for a second, then Kreet said her goodbyes and ran out with the other two. Another man stood outside. A man she knew.

“Kevin? From the bakery?!”

“Hi Kreet!”

Mekelson looked from one to the other. “Kreet, you know Kevin?”

“Know him? I have to slap his hands away every night! Kevin, what are you doing here?!”

“He’s the best tracker around,” Mekelson explained. “Now let’s go!”

18 – Seeing Red

A month later, the promise became moot. Ashley came to her one morning, before the others had risen. She was not pregnant. Kreet tried to share her relief as best she could, but inwardly she could not. For a month she had seen a future that looked as bright as any she could have imagined – at least without Brand. But the child was not to be, and it left Kreet feeling depressed for a few days. Eventually she got over it though, and as she took a tray of ale to a table of travelers, she saw Ashley flirting with some locals and realized that something had, after all, come from the incident. Kreet now had a sister. The two had become inseparable.

She smiled at the men as she delivered their mugs, thinking about how Pelor worked in ways she could never comprehend.

“Hold on there, miss!” one of the men said, grabbing her roughly by the wrist.

“Why certainly sir! Something I can get for you?” she squeaked.

“Not much up top, girly, but that mouth looks nice and wet,” he leered.

The stranger’s partner scowled, “Garth, she’s a fuckin’ lizard! She’d nip your pecker off.”

“Naw, she’s a good girl, aren’t you?” the first said, running his other hand over her neck and shoulder. “Smooth like a snake. You wouldn’t hurt my snake would you?”

Kreet cringed. It wasn’t like she hadn’t met the like before, but this guy was really holding her tight. She tried the coy approach first.

“Sir, as much as I’d like to, I don’t think you’d fit! And I’m afraid my teeth are pretty sharp. Sorry, I’m just not really built for…”

“Nip your pecker off, I tell you,” the other man said, interrupting her.

“Ah well,” the drunk said and loosened his grip. “You’re probably right. Tell you what, you look like you’ve got a plenty big ass. I bet you could take us both!”

Suddenly his other hand went to her crotch and her eyes glowed instantly red. This was well over the line.

Across the room, she heard Red ring a bell. It was Nick’s alert and he was rounding the bar, but the other man had risen behind her.

“Now that I could go for!” he said lewdly and ran his hand along her tail.

Instinct, reflex and training took over before she even consciously knew what she was doing. Her tail lashed viciously and with full speed at the head of the man behind her, sending him sprawling against the wall, but not before she ripped a bloody gash in his thigh with a talon. She spun out of the first man’s grip and kept the arc of her tail going. It crashed against the other man’s back, rolling him to the floor. Nick was barely two steps away from the bar by then as Kreet rolled to the side and the man called Garth got to his feet. The other man began to scream, holding his leg while dark blood spurted from around his fingers.

“You goddamn lizard,” Garth spat, wiping a little blood from his own mouth. She watched him advance from her back on the floor, her tail underneath her. His arms were outstretched, preparing to grab her bodily. Her tail could do no direct harm, but she used it to push her waist high into the air. The man wasn’t prepared for this and he stopped for a moment over her.

At the last millisecond, she retained just enough sanity to retract her claws. Even so, the kick she delivered, backed not only by her powerful legs but by her tail thrusting them forward, literally threw the man off his feet and across the room to hit the door. The impact was hard enough to break the latch and send his body out into the night beyond. She was breathing hard as she sat up on the floor, trembling with rage and adrenaline.

“Holy shit!” Nick said as he got to where Kreet sat, looking around her as if to find another target in range.

Cherry arrived next, looking to the man screaming, his leg bleeding badly. “Red, get a towel. Quick! He’s passing out.”

Kreet glared at Nick as he approached, her eyes still bright red with rage. He backed up a step, “Now wait a minute Gator! I’m the good guy, remember?”

Her lips curled around her teeth involuntarily, but Ashley took her hand. She looked at the familiar face with alarm at first, but then recognition took it’s place and the fury dimmed.

“GODDAMMIT RED! WHERE’S THAT TOWEL?” Cherry screamed.

Kreet steadied herself. Slowly she began to comprehend what had happened.

“Cherry, let me see him.”

“Gator, I think you’ve killed him,” the blonde woman said, looking up at her, blood staining her hands and face.

Kreet put her hands out, kneeling to touch the man’s leg. The bloodied shreds of his pants clung to the wound beneath, and the dark blood had stopped flowing.

“No,” she said. “Not yet.”

She closed her eyes and sought the power of Pelor. Like an old friend from a lifetime ago, it came back to her. She had learned a lot in the years since Karl’s fall about the healing arts. Most was not magic, and had a lot to do with cleanliness and rest, but not all. She heard the sound of the girls clearing out the tavern – at least of those patrons who hadn’t already left on their own. But she was focused on the man laying underneath her hands. She felt the wound closing and the heart, though deprived of too much blood, relentlessly doing it’s job with what remained. The wound closed and the bleeding stopped.

Now she began the more miraculous step. Inside his veins, blood reproduced and increased. The red water that was his life was replenished under her hands. She visualized it. She believed it. She KNEW it. She opened her eyes, and her patient opened his.

Cherry gasped. She had never seen the Cleric’s art performed before. No one here had.

“A miracle,” whispered Ashley in awe.

“It is,” Kreet confirmed, not taking her eyes off the man. His eyes focused on hers. The new blood that pumped within his veins was pure and he was no longer drunk.

“Who are you?” Kreet asked.

“Trace. My name’s Trace. What happened?”

“You got a little drunk Trace. You and your friend,” Kreet said calmly, then suddenly looked to the door.

“He’s okay,” Red assured her as she stepped up. “Staggered off apparently.”

“You’d better go find your friend, Trace,” Kreet said, helping the man to his feet.

He nodded, but kept looking at Kreet.

“It’s okay, Sir. You’re okay. Go on, your friend is out there somewhere. You’ll recognize him as the guy with the big bruise in the middle of his chest,” Kreet chuckled, adding, “If he hasn’t broken a rib. If so, send him back here. I can help with that.”

“I… I will,” the man named Trace assured her, then he walked out into the night.

“Well, that’s a tale that’s going to be around a while,” Red said, sitting down with Cherry on the floor.

“How do you think it’ll go?” Cherry asked, taking the towel and wiping her hands.

“Oh, pretty well I think. One thing’s for sure, no one is going to be messing with Gator anytime soon!”

“I’d say not. Gator, you know who’s going to have to clean up this mess, right?” Cherry said, but she was smiling now.

“I’ll go get the mop,” Kreet sighed.

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.

16 – Wench

Kreet settled into her new life at the Wicked Serpent quickly enough. It didn’t take her too long to learn most of the drinks and food on the menu, and she had fashioned three identical and quite interesting uniforms for herself as well, using the other girls’ outfits as a model. If her chest didn’t exactly fill out the blouse that topped the bodice, it at least gave the impression of more underneath than was really there. Cherry and the other girls were delighted with it, and Red even gave her approval. It didn’t take long to figure out the relationship between Cherry and Red, but they took ribbing from the younger girls well and Kreet began to feel comfortable with her new family.

As for the customers, she was the darling of the tavern. It had taken her some time to get used to them. There was always someone who got a little too touchy-feely as the night wore on, but they soon learned her tail made a pretty stinging whip and she wasn’t afraid to use it. She also was surprised to learn that Nick only rarely had to come out from behind the bar to wield his muscle. Both Red and Cherry were quite capable of handling all but the most aggressive drunks. Of course there were occasional fights that broke out, and Kreet quickly learned why the furniture, mugs and cups were built so sturdy. It was the girls’ belief that when fights broke out among the patrons, as long as the steel stayed sheathed it was just as well to let it play out inside. That took some getting used to for Kreet.

“You have to understand,” Cherry was saying after they’d closed the tavern and were sweeping up the mess, “that a lot of the fight is just the way they let out their aggression. I’d much rather they do that here, where we can intervene if it gets too serious, than outside where they’re likely to pull out weapons.”

“And,” Ashley put in, “there’s usually some relative or neighbor here to keep things under control anyway.”

“But… that one guy lost a tooth!,” Kreet said while mopping the floor. She seemed to get most of the floor-work, she noticed. Cherry had said it was because she was the closest. She liked Cherry.

“Ah, it happens,” Ashly said, pounding a mug back into shape with a small hammer. They’ve got more.“

Wynda spoke up from the lavatory, "Ty doesn’t have that many more! Goddammit Cherry, why don’t we just install a giant funnel in here! I swear there’s more piss outside the hole than in it!”

“Hey, I already told you the best solution,” Kreet pointed out. “And it would work too! Just install some holes in the door with tubes to direct it to the cesspool! Then they can just stick their things in, get the job done, and no mess. Clean, practical… what’s the problem with that?”

Wynda stepped out of the lavatory carrying a bucket to the door. “Sounds like a good idea to me!”

“Never work,” Nick said. “Guys don’t like to whip them out in public.”

“BULLSHIT!” Cherry scoffed. “I see more dicks every night than that lavatory does!”

“Well… they don’t like other guys to see ‘em I guess.”

“Why not?” Kreet asked.

The three girls looked at each other and began laughing.

Red managed to recover first. “They all are convinced they have the smallest one in the room!”

“Oh! I see.”

The door reopened and Wynda came back in, her bucket full of fresh water and returned to her labors in the lavatory.

“A funnel, I say,” she repeated. “Big… BIG funnel. Oh fuck! I swear to Pelor somebody hit the ceiling! Oh, sorry Gator.”

Kreet laughed, “Pelor isn’t offended by anything like that.”

Cherry and Red went to the lavatory and looked up.

“Impressive!” Cherry said.

“A bladder of heroic proportions!” Wynda laughed, but Red stood on the bench and reached up to touch the ceiling, then sniffed her finger.

“Not piss. Water. Nick, the roof’s got a leak.”

“Oh crap. Okay, I’ll get it in the morning,” Nick called.

“No, you’ll get it now. Take Gator. She can hold the lamp. If you wait till morning it’s only going to get worse and the floor will be flooded.”

“As if it’s not already flooded with piss,” Wynda complained.

Nick sighed and motioned for Kreet to follow. They went in the back room, got some tools, and went up to patch the roof.

“So, Gator. What do you think? Is life at the tavern everything you expected?”

Kreet held the lamp while the bartender began pounding nails. “Nothing like what I expected actually. But the girls are nice.”

Nick nodded, not looking up from his work. “They are.”

“You like working here?”

“Sure! Where else can I hang out all night, beat up drunks, look at beautiful women and get paid for it? What’s not to like?”

“I suppose when you put it that way, you’ve got a point.”

Nick packed up his tools and started down the ladder. “The way I figure it, Gator, all jobs are shit. But they’ve all got their plus sides too. There’s a hell of a lot worse out there than pouring drinks and rousting drunks.”

“There is,” Kreet agreed as she followed him down the ladder.

“Um… Gator,” he said as she hopped off onto the ground.

“Hmm?”

“There’s one thing, about your uniform…”

“I know, I know. Jeeze, sorry to flash you. I’m still working on how to get the tail hole to work with a skirt. It’s not easy! Robes are so much simpler.”

“Okay, but till then I suggest no more dancing on the table for you. No wonder those guys were all crowded around!”

Kreet wasn’t able to blush, but her eyes did glow a bit pink as they went back inside. "Oh yeah. I forgot about that.“

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.

13 – The Wicked Serpent

It was just getting dark when Brand and Kreet knocked at Karl’s door. The husband-to-be opened the door and Kreet saw that all his earthly possessions were neatly stacked up in a crate in the corner.

“Ready to go?” Brand asked.

Karl smiled sheepishly, “No, but we might as well get this over with.”

“Well, it’s your last night of bachelor freedom,” Brand said as Karl got down his cloak and they proceeded out of the room. “You wouldn’t want to spend it alone in your room would you? Or meditating in the chapel?”

“Don’t you like ogling women?” Kreet asked innocently.

“Ogling? Gator, where’d you get that from? Brand has been smutting up your language again I see!”

“Oh, like you don’t,” Brand laughed.

“Hey, just because I do, doesn’t mean I have to admit it! Yeah Kreet, no doubt I do. But after tonight I’m supposed to only ogle Vosa!”

“Are you sure it’s alright for me to come along? I’ve never been in a tavern before.”

Both Brand and Karl looked at their little friend. “Never?” asked Karl.

She shook her head.

“Well then, it’s high time you did!” Brand said. “We’ll look out for you. True sometimes the drunks can get rowdy, but the Wicked Serpent is a pretty decent place. And you’re fairly well known around town, even if you don’t go there often. Not many places can claim they have a tame kobold living nearby.”

She glared at Brand. “I’m not tame,” she asserted. “And nobody ‘has’ me.”

“Sorry Gator. I didn’t mean it like that. But you are a minor celebrity around here. You’ll be fine.”

“Besides,” Karl went on, “It wouldn’t be the same without you, Kreet. The three of us together for one last adventure before I retire.”

“Karl,” Kreet groaned, “You’re not even 20 years old yet. I don’t think you’re ready for retirement.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

They arrived at the tavern in town near the Monastery and Brand opened the door wide. The warm firelight and sounds of voices inside drew Kreet in behind Karl. The three walked through the place, eliciting little notice. Certainly some heads turned and conversations changed at the arrival of the kobold, but they soon returned to their business when nothing further happened.

Brand and Karl sat on seats at the bar with Kreet between them. While she stood all of four feet tall by this time, she still could barely see over the counter. Brand indicated the bar top and suggested she sit atop it instead, which she happily agreed to. Once there she could see everything. The frown from the bartender was quickly taken care of when Brand set some coins on the bar beside Kreet and ordered three rounds of ale.

Kreet scanned the scene. She was actually surprised and delighted to find that the place, rather than being filled with weapons-and-armor clad adventureres, was peopled more by the local farmers and merchants. Four serving wenches were busy delivering drinks and receiving rather bawdy attention from the male patrons as well as the occasional slap on the rump or worse. One of them came over to Brand and greeted all three of them warmly.

“Brand! I see you brought your friends too! So this is the young man who is getting roped?”

“Yup! Red, this is Karl, Acolyte of Pelor and soon-to-be husband. I’m hoping you and the girls can show him a good time tonight. Remind him of what a foolish thing he’s doing tomorrow!”

“Oh, I think we can manage that,” the woman named ‘Red’ smiled warmly, taking Karl’s hand. “I think we’ve met before, haven’t we?”

Karl nodded, “I used to come in here sometimes,” he admitted. “Before I met my fiance.”

“To get drunk and look at us I wager,” Red laughed, not letting go of his hand.

Karl nodded and she pulled his hand underneath her loose-fitting blouse, “Well, you’ll do more than look tonight young stud!”

Karl’s face turned bright red as she fake-moaned, then released his hand laughing.

“But it will have to be later, we’ve got a full crowd here right now. They’ll start to thin out in an hour or so. Then we can open up the side room for you. Sound good?”

Brand nodded happily while Karl just stared at his hand.

“Is that ogling?” Kreet asked as she took her first drink of ale.

“That,” Brand said, downing a big gulp of his own ale, “is called ‘groping’ I believe!”

“But,” protested Karl, “is it ‘groping’ if she makes me?”

“I didn’t see a lot of resistance, Karl. And based on the size of that bump in your robe, I’d say the end result is about the same!”

Kreet couldn’t help but look. “Oh! Now I get it! It’s a mating ritual, right? He touches her breasts and that makes it….”

“Gator!” Karl hissed. “Shut up!”

“Oh… Sorry,” she said. “This is all new to me you know. There’s not many books in the library about this.”

“Actually, Kreet,” Karl said. “There are. But they’re locked away from the Acolytes.”

“Really?” Brand said in between drinks. “I never heard of that!”

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen them. I was in charge of the library last year remember. Pretty graphic stuff!”

Kreet was puzzled, “I don’t know why they’d hide them from us at this point. For heaven’s sake Brand, you’ve already gotten Vosa pregnant! What more could there be that you haven’t already figured out?”

“Probably some idea about keeping us away from that sort of thing. Doesn’t work though, obviously,” said Brand.

“And you’d be surprised at how much more there is!” Karl went on, getting into his scholarly mode again and seeming to have forgotten all about his hand now. They have books on specific races and customs! Even one on the mating rituals of Orcs if I understood the title correctly.“

"Anything on Kobolds?” Brand asked, putting his arm around Kreet.

Karl shook his head. “Not that I’ve seen,” he said, actually having to look up to the kobold, given her high perch, “Sorry Gator. I did look for one too.”

Kreet sighed and downed the remainder of her tankard in an impressive display given her diminutive size. “Oh, nevermind Gimp,” she said when she came up for air, “I’ll learn plenty of your rituals eventually I expect.”

A few minutes later another round of ale was delivered and Kreet began to feel light-headed.

“…and they really don’t mind?” Karl was asking Brand about the tavern girls.

“Those that don’t, don’t. Those that do mind, don’t do it. It’s that simple Karl. It’s not like they don’t get paid well. But no, they’re not forced to.”

“Wouldn’t that make them…” Kreet asked.

“Well, yeah, sort of I guess. But don’t expect anything Karl. The bartender made it clear, the girls will do what they want and nothing more. Right?”

“Hey! I’m pretty happy with just that grope!” Karl laughed. “Besides, if I drink much more I don’t think it will really matter much!”

“What about you, Kreet? Do you want to see some women up-close and personal? Just for research purposes of course.”

Kreet looked at Brand, her eyes a little unfocused. “I’d rather look at some men. A lot more interesting design-wise!”

“Pffft,” Karl scoffed. “A stick and some balls. Simple. But women! Now there’s COMPLEXITY! Why, they have a place down there thats…”

“Karl!” Kreet interrupted him. “You can turn off the instructor-talk now. Besides, I kinda know most everything I need to about women already.”

“She’s got a point Karl. You do tend to lapse into teacher mode.”

“What can I say? Since spending time with Vosa I’ve become something of an expert in the subject!” Karl laughed.

“Well sure, you’ve got experience with ONE, but I’m sure Gator can attest that no two are exactly alike,” Brand responded.

“I’m sure that’s true,” Kreet agreed. “Though I’m obviously a lot different than most.”

“Snowflakes. You’re all like snowflakes – every one different,” Karl observed, another tankard hitting empty.

“Well, you are too, right? I mean, guys all like things a little differently too?” Kreet said, starting to slur her words a little.

Karl and Brand looked at each other and started laughing.

“Oh, I’m sure some do, Gator, but as a rule we all pretty much like the same thing,” Karl assured her.

The woman known as Red came back up to them then and took Karl by the hand. Another came up to Brand and Kreet. “Come on! Red says you’re having a batchelor party! I love those!”

“Me too?” Kreet asked, unsure of what she should do in this situation.

“Oh sure! Come on along little kobold! Don’t worry, we’re just gonna have fun. No sex involved, I promise!”

“Awwww,” Brand cried, but picked Kreet up off the bar and they followed the busty wench, a little woozily, into a side room where Red already had Karl’s robe off from the waist up and was massaging his back while sitting on him.

By the end of the night Kreet had indeed learned a lot more about humans and their habits. She also learned that too much ale makes you vomit and pee a lot, not necessariliy in that order. As they staggered back to the Monastery, all three were singing a bawdy tune that Red had taught them.

“But now I’m all pent-up,” Karl complained after the last line.

“I know what you mean!” Brand agreed. “But save that for your honeymoon.”

Karl nodded. “Yeah. What about you? You and Gator gonna…” Karl said, making an obscene gesture.

Kreet laughed in her half-coughing way, “Are you kidding? Now I’ve seen you both erect! You’d split me in half! No, Brand’s going to have to handle it on his own.”

“Which he probably will! Did you see those boobs Brand?”

“On Red? Jeeze, yeah!”

Kreet suddenly was depressed in the rapid mood swings that alchohol often produced. “I don’t have any boobs,” she said forlornly.

“Aww, Gator, boobs aren’t everything,” Brand said, patting her on the shoulder.

“They are to you guys,” she said, practically crying now.

Even in his drunken state, Karl tried to revert to his scholarly tone, “Mammary glands are the most obvious external signal of a human female’s sexual maturity, Gator. It’s natural that they would interest us you know.”

“And kobolds get thunder-thighs. I suppose in my native culture these things would be hot stuff,” Kreet said gloomily, wiggling her butt.

“Yeah, probably so,” Karl agreed.

The three arrived at Karl’s room where Brand and Kreet said goodnight to the husband-and-father-to-be.

“Thanks again Brand,” Karl managed to say before collapsing onto his cot. “That was a hell of a bachelor party!”

“It was! Goodnight Karl. We’ll see you at the wedding.”

Karl groaned as they shut the door behind them and Brand and Kreet proceeded to her room. She became aware of a growing tension between the two, though she didn’t say anything. They stopped at her door.

“Goodnight Kreet,” Brand said, kneeling down to give her a hug.

“Brand… if you want to come in for a little bit…”

Brand looked at her directly. The look may have lasted a second or an hour. Kreet couldn’t tell. She only saw his eyes. They looked… deep.

“Kreet…” he began but she interrupted him.

“I, want you to Brand…”

But he shook his head and her world fell in on itself. She had revealed too much. She’d exposed her feelings for him. She would never have done it had she been sober or the night been earlier. Things would never be the same between them again, she knew. Why did she have to say that?

“I know you do, Kreet,” he said, but her mind was already leaping ahead and seeing the darkness in front of her.

“Kreet, I do love you, you know. In a way,” he kept talking, but she heard nothing. She wished he would just go away and let her die in self-pity.

“It’s not because you’re a kobold either, Kreet. But… this can’t happen to me now. It would be such a mistake…” he said, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. In Kreet’s ears she heard only the pulsing white-noise of the ocean or her heartbeat as her eyes turned purple and her vision wavered.

Finally he released her and she entered her room, stunned, closing the door behind her. She glanced over to where a short dagger lay in a drawer and considered it for a second. Then she looked at her claws. She didn’t want to kill herself really. But she did want to hurt herself for the stupid thing she had just done. She retracted her claws so as not to draw blood, and began beating herself on her flat, flat chest. Hard.

12 – Counselor

The man that Kreet, Karl, and Brand knew as their Master was far more than a simple tutor to the three Acolytes. Because of the unique nature of the Clerical calling, he had to know as much about them as he could. He was their tutor, confidant and father figure – and they were his children. Since accepting the position of Master Cleric at the Monastery he had trained two other sets of Clerics. Some of his pupils were the pride of his life, while others were complete disappointments. He did not blame himself for those, nor took credit for the successes. That, he knew, lay with Pelor and the students themselves. The best he could do, was just to always do what he felt was right.

Yet he had no experience teaching female Acolytes, even less female kobold Acolytes. So when she came to him the following day, he tried his best to maintain his stoic demeanor at what she told him. It would do her no good, especially after overcoming her own embarrassment, to let her know just how helpless he felt in this situation. As she went on, describing her innermost feelings for Brand, he decided it would be best to simply imagine she was a boy who was having similar feelings for someone else. That idea gave him some solid ground to base his advice on, much has he knew this development could easily derail both Kreet and Brand’s future as Clerics of Pelor. He sincerely hoped he could help guide Kreet through this successfully.

Finally the kobold had finished her confession and was looking at him for help.

“Kreet, I am a Cleric of Pelor. That entails me always to seek the best path to guide others down. But we do not know what the future will hold, and I may well misguide you here. I am fallible and just a man, Kreet. But I am also Brand’s Master of course, so I must also gauge my responses to his benefit as well. You must know, first, that a kiss is an expression of caring. It may or may not be one of romantic love. The kiss I gave you years ago was just that – intended to expression my sincere caring for you. I am honored that you would still remember it, but no more was intended. Brand cares for you too, perhaps even more deeply, but that kiss does not itself indicate anything more.”

The kobold looked away from him, obviously dejected and probably embarrassed, but she nodded as well. “I knew that,” she said as if assuring herself.

“Kreet, I’d hoped nothing like this would ever happen. You’ve been raised in the company of us humans nearly all your life. I’m no expert in kobold, or any other races’ psychology, but in my experience, I believe all sentient beings long for a special bond with others, usually a single Other. That’s not even necessarily related to biology either. Two people can become friends without ever becoming physically intimate. I’m afraid that’s the most you can hope for with Brand, Kreet. You know I speak to all three of you privately on a regular basis. Brand is a very driven student. He’s not as quick as Karl with spells, and he’s not as quick to catch on to new concepts as you are. He knows that, and has something of an inferiority complex you may not be aware of.”

“Brand?! But he’s the best of all of us at…” Kreet began, but the Cleric interrupted.

“It doesn’t matter what he is good at, Kreet. He sees what he is not the best at, and obsesses on it. He’s trying so, so hard. He loves both you and Karl deeply, but I don’t think he sees you in that special way.”

Kreet looked back up at him, tears welling in her eyes.

“I’m sorry Kreet, but my advice is this – keep these feelings to yourself. I know you want the best for Brand, as do I. I also want the best for you. Karl is the best student I’ve ever had in the magical realm, but we’ve lost him as a Cleric to love and nature. If you do not restrain yourself here, I will lose you too, I have no doubt, and probably Brand as well. Nature will do what it will do, and I know there’s only so much that willpower can control. Brand wants to become a Cleric so much. Let him have his dream, Kreet. You are both progressing so quickly now, it won’t be many more years.”

She nodded, wiping a tear from an eye. “Of course, Master,” she choked. “Life is… painful.”

The Cleric knelt to embrace her. “It is, Kreet. And yours is harder than anyone here knows, probably more than I even comprehend. But don’t despair of all hope. Time can change everything. I won’t propose to know how or in what manner your life will change, but I do promise you it will change. And for the better, no matter what you may feel now.”

Kreet stood up to go, and this time she planted her own kiss – as well as she could manage it – on the Cleric’s cheek. “I’m sorry I had to burden you with this, Master Cleric. I knew there wasn’t any good solution anyway, but it does feel better knowing someone understands.”

“I do understand, Kreet. I do not command you, you understand, but if you really care about him – as you do – you will let him complete his training, and yours as well. What happens then? Well… who knows what the future holds? Inter-species relationships aren’t unheard of. Why, all the half-elves running around can attest to that!”

She laughed, imagining what a half-kobold would look like, then rejecting the image. “Ew! Master, that’s a horrible thought.”

“Perhaps,” he said, walking her to the door. “But not all relationships must be procreative in nature either. I know it’s a radical thought, but you two could just be friends for life you know.”

The little kobold looked at him like he’d just uttered an incantation. She nodded and a smile stole over her fact. “Friends for life. Yes, I could be that! Thank you Master!”

As the Master Cleric closed the door behind her, his face turned from a good-natured smile to a frown and he slumped perceptibly. Then he went to his prie-dieu and knelt.

“Good Pelor, please help me in this,” he prayed. “You know I’m lost here. Please help me to advise them correctly and as you would have it. I know you will guide them to your ultimate Good, but you know I’m lost in this matter!”

A voice in his head, which may have been the voice of Pelor or his own conscience gave him absolution. “As long as you do what you think is best, that is enough. That is all you can do.”

10 – Attack

In fact, it was almost a year and a half later before Karl’s wedding was announced. In the world that Kreet lived in, such young marriages were not unusual. Common wisdom was “If you’re old enough to ‘do it’ you’re old enough to be a parent”. The fact that the bride-to-be was gravid with child by then was the typical situation rather than the exception. The circumstances were obvious and Karl had been reprimanded by his Master for his indiscretion, but in fact he was quite in love with the woman and she seemed to be so of him as well. In the intervening time the old lady who lived outside the Monastery walls had died and thus the young couple was provided a place to reside on the Monastery property.

While the young lady, Vosa by name, had never been a friend of Kreet’s, she was civil enough and – with no other candidate available – Kreet was allowed to serve as her First while Brand was the First for Karl. It was a week away from the celebration that found all four together in Vosa’s room at the laundry.

"So you are staying on as Cleric Quint’s Assistent then?” Brand was asking Karl.

“Oh yes! The Master Cleric put in a good word for me with the Abbot. I know I can’t really be a true Cleric anymore. I’ve got a family to think about now,” Karl said, rubbing Vosa’s swelling belly. “But you know I’m damn good at Cantrips and Spells. Even the Master says so. I think they’ll groom me to take over for him one day!”

“I don’t doubt it,” Kreet said. “You’ll be teaching me and Brand soon!”

“Oh, be honest,” Vosa spoke up. “He already is, isn’t he?”

Kreet and Brand looked at each other. Kreet had to nod. “Yeah, he pretty much is. He’s really good at it.”

“I know! They wanted to bring a doctor in when it’s my time to deliver, but I told them my Karl can do it better anyway!” she said, holding Karl’s hand.

Karl looked alarmed at that, “Well, I could probably help, but you know I’ve never been present for a real delivery before!”

“We’ve done plenty of animals,” Brand spoke up. “Surely they’re not that much different.”

Karl looked at him seriously, “Maybe not, but it’s never been my wife before!”

“Well I’m not worried,” Vosa said, “but since it will make Kay feel better, we’ll have a doctor anyway.”

Vosa’s look turned a bit ashamed, “besides, it’s not my first you know.”

Of course they all knew that. She had been pregnant before, but the child had died shortly after its birth. That had created a stir in the Monastery, but she wouldn’t say who the father was to anyone. Most everyone suspected a village boy who had been seen around the Monastery anyway.

“So I guess it’s just you and me now,” Brand said to Kreet. “The last of the Young Clerics.”

“Well, if you don’t count those four new kids they brought in last year,” she reminded him.

Brand scoffed, “Those runts?! They’ll never amount to Clerics. They wouldn’t know a Cantrip from a Canticle!”

They all laughed at that, all except Vosa who, Kreet suspected, really didn’t.

Suddenly they heard noises outside. They all looked up, not recognizing the sound. Then the alarm bell began to ring and screams were heard in the distance.

“What the hell is that?” Brand shouted, standing up.

Vosa looked at Karl, who assured her it was alright, then turned back to Brand and Kreet. “The Monastery is under attack. Come on, we can help.”

The three left the room, but not before Vosa grabbed Karl’s hand. “Be careful Kay!” she said, sincere concern in her eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “I’m not stupid. And you’ll be fine too. But get to the sanctuary just in case.”

She nodded and then the three were out into the darkness. On the other side of the Monastery a fire was burning, but it appeared to be outside the wall. Kreet noticed the gate was shut up tight and monks were manning the normally empty guard towers with crossbows. It struck her that these normally peaceful men were nonetheless quite ready to weild any weapon available when threatened.

The three soon came upon Cleric Quint who had just finished talking with one of the Priors.

“Brand, come with me. Some bandits have breached the south wall. Kreet and Karl, you stay behind us. They’ve already been engaged by some of our best monks, but we are the only true Clerics here. Fortunately we had a warrior staying with the Abbot. I’m told he’s gearing up and will be with us shortly. Let’s get rid of these creatures before they can cause any serious damage!”

They ran towards the south wall, Brand and Cleric Quint outdistancing the lame Kurt and the small kobold quickly. Kreet saw the flash of metal and heard the yelling of both the monks and the bandits as she rounded a corner of the last building. Brand and her Master were in there somewhere, but she couldn’t make them out. However, her extended night vision did allow her to see one of the bandits running at a monk she didn’t recognize. The monk couldn’t possibly have seen him, since he was engaged with another bandit already in front of him. Kreet began a Cantrip, but Karl was faster. He knocked the man over with Sacred Flame. "Kreet, cover your eyes!“ he shouted, which she instantly obeyed, then he case a strong Light spell.

She had her glasses on before she opened her eyes again. The Light spell had blinded most everyone there, but the Monks knew their land and the Bandits did not. Skulls were bashed in and bones broken. Kreet saw the Master then, taking on two terribly big men in fur armor with only his own stave, but he wielded it viciously. Beside him Brand was casting a Protection spell on the Master, then turned to help another monk who was giving way to a huge monstrous shape she’d never seen the like of before.

And then, like an angel in steel, a man strode in from behind them. In the full plate armor he wore, he could not move quickly, but he made an impression on everyone on the field that could not be denied. He headed straight for where Brand was barely keeping out of the way of the huge mace wielded by the beastly thing in front of him.

Thinking quickly, Kreet went to her knees and cast Bless on Brand, the Master and the new figure. Whether or not they noticed, she couldn’t tell, but it was one thing she could do for them anyway. It was the most powerful spell she knew that was not the forbidden spell, but she knew even that was only a level 1 spell. She began to feel useless.

Then the Knight, for Kreet could think of no other word for him, engaged in battle with the monster. It was no easy matter, even for him, to defeat the thing. But he wielded his shield expertly and the mace only glanced off it while that opened him up to strike at the heart of the thing. He scored a hit on one massive leg and she could see the blood spurting as Karl’s light began to fade, but it’s ire was up and it roared at the man who suddenly looked small as it reared up to it’s full height, it’s mace directly overhead as it prepared for a tremendous blow. Kreet could see no way the Knight, in his heavy armor, could avoid the blow. He might manage to survive, but it would be a chancy thing.

The other fighting seemed to stop as all eyes turned towards the two. Even the bandits backed off to see what would happen. Then Karl shouted again for Kreet to hide her eyes, which she did instantly, having practiced the move many times now. She felt the flash and heard the roar of his Guiding Bolt. When she opened her eyes again, the bandits were in full retreat back to the wall with the monks, Brand among them, giving chase. The thing lie motionless on the ground.

She looked at Karl, and he looked at her. "Are you okay Kreet?”

“Fine. You killed it!” she said with awe in her voice.

The Knight was striding their way. When he got within 10 feet, he removed his helmet. The long hair and moustaches that graced his face were almost exactly what Kreet had expected. He was every inch the Kight in Shining Armor.

“Damn you boy,” he shouted angrily. “I’d have sliced it’s legs off if you’d have given me another second!”

Karl shook his head. “What?! What are you on about? I saved your fucking life!”

The moustaches twitched. “Well, it was a little quicker than I thought. Maybe you’re right. Sorry lad, I don’t like it when my kill is taken from me. But damn that was one huge demon wasn’t it?”

Karl’s face relaxed. “A demon? Is that what that was?”

“Only thing I know of that would attack a Monastery head-on like that! They always attract retainers, but with it dead I’m sure they won’t be back. My name is Mekelson, boy. What’s your name?”

Karl shook the outstretched hand. “My name is Karl, Sir. My friends call me Kay. And this is Kreet.”

The head turned to face her, and it backed up a step. “But… she’s a kobold! Oh, that’s right. The abbot mentioned you. Kreet eh? You’re a lucky girl, Kreet. Most kobolds I meet don’t see me with my helmet off!”

He turned back to Karl, “Can she talk?”

Kreet’s eyes were burning. Something was wrong with her brain. She closed them and swallowed hard. Without looking at the man, she responded. “I talk. I am an Acolyte of Pelor, the Lord of Light.”

“She blessed you, you know,” Karl said speaking up for her.

“Oh, did she? Well, thank you for that, Kreet. But now I’d better get back to the Abbot. He’ll be waiting for me,” said the man and strode off.

Karl whispered to her, “You didn’t have to look away, Kreet. You’re an Acolyte. You deserve as much respect as any old warrior!”

“I didn’t look away out of shame, Kay,” the kobold said. When she looked up at him, he saw her eyes were literally glowing red in the darkness. “I was trying not to kill him.”

9 – Brand

In fact it took more than a week before her eyesight had fully recovered. Of course Karl had received suitable punishment for casting such a spell untutored, but it was nothing compared to his own self-recrimination. During that week he was at Kreet’s side constantly. ‘The Blind Gator and the Dumb Gimp’, Brand labelled them, but only when they were alone and even then without malice.

But finally things had gotten back to normal and, Kreet found herself spending more time with Brand actually. Karl was turning out to be the better magic-wielder of the three, and Kreet learned as much from him as her Master. While she was competent, compared to Karl she felt lost a lot of the time. Brand, on the other hand, was turning into a real Martial Artist. Once Kreet’s lessons with her Master had progressed far enough, she began to love sparring with Brand. Since their “sessions” were much less structured, she felt like she could really let loose on Brand as he was good at countering her moves. She learned to dart in and out too, as Brand wouldn’t hesitate to crush her in what he called the “grab and squish” tactic. Basically if he got a good grip on her at any point, she was practically doomed. The Master wouldn’t do that, but a real opponent certainly would. So she kept herself moving and kept her tail from straying behind with quick, random lashes back and forth and up and down.

Brand was no heavyweight. His own beard was just beginning to come in, but even so he posessed more of a tall, stringy-muscled form than burly. Yet even at his relatively meager 160 pounds he dwarfed Kreet quite literally and once he got a good grip on her, she simply hadn’t the mass to overcome it. Of course she could have wielded her claws on a real opponent – that she would never do on Brand – but still she had to yield once his arms got wrapped around her. The lone exception was the rare occasions when he grabbed her from the rear. Then her powerful leg muscles could be brought to bear and, even without using her talons, she could kick her way loose. His usual counter-attack was to wrap her lower legs and feet up in his arms when that happened, leaving her only able to beat at him ineffectually with her tail.

Fortunately he seemed to enjoy their sparring just as much as she did, and as the days grew colder later that year and the sparring ground was used less frequently, the sound of the two fighting in the yard were often the only sounds around while the other monks stayed indoors.

“Yield?” Brand was saying as they lay sprawled in the dirt.

“Yield,” Kreet puffed out, breathing hard and making a steam of breath that haloed around her head.

The boy released her and leaned back against the wall, himself breathing just as hard.

“Gator, if you’d have smacked me with that tail one more time,” he admitted as she sat beside him, “I probably wouldn’t have been able to hold on anymore honestly!”

“Really? I should have kept at it,” she said between breaths.

“Looks like everyone’s inside. I can see the dinner hall lights from here. You ready to go in?”

“In a minute. It’s kind of nice out here when it’s quiet. And I’m too hot for the cold to bother me yet.”

Brand nodded. “Where’s Karl anyway?” he asked.

“Probably with that laundry girl again,” she replied, making a face of disgust that translated quite well to Brand.

“He better be careful or he’s going to become Daddy Gimp!” Brand said, concerned look on his face.

“No kidding. Last he talked to me about her it sounded like he had gotten to third goal, and he doesn’t talk about her anymore,” Kreet said, her eyes going wide.

“Not surprised. She’s a slut.”

“Better not let him hear you say that. He’s in LOOOOOOVE!”

“In love with a slut. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you, Gator.”

She sighed, “No, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a perma-virgin.”

“Well, you never know. I seem to see just a hint of booby there don’t I?”

Kreet looked down at herself. “I don’t know if that’s boob or if I’m just getting fat.”

“Do you get boobs?” Brand asked. Of course they’d been over this topic before. Kreet was the boys’ entry into the world of the Female without the consequences of being embarassed. But she didn’t mind, since they were hers into the world of Males and humans in general too.

“Some do, some don’t. No nipples though. My mom didn’t have boobs I don’t think, though I don’t remember her very well anymore.”

“Well I don’t know why you’d have them at all really,” Brand said, leaning on her. “Not like you make milk or anything.”

“Wanna hear a legend about that?”

“Ooo! A kobold legend about boobs! Sure!!!”

“It’s not one I remember as a child or anything, I read it in a book on kobold myths. You know how most kobolds say we come from dragons, right?”

“Sure. But without wings and fire it’s kinda stretching it don’t you think?”

“Yeah. But it’s just a myth. Anyway, this one goes that there was once this ferocious dragon and this guy goes out to kill it dressed in full plate mail.”

“Ha! You’d get roasted like a turkey in full plate against a dragon!” Brand laughed.

Kreet snorted. “It’s a myth, okay! That means you don’t take it literally!”

“Okay, okay. Go on…”

“So anyway the guy goes to slay this dragon, but the dragon is a female dragon, right? And she’s in heat, and this guy comes in…”

“Oh, I can see where this is going!” Brand said, making an obscene gesture with his fingers.

Kreet nodded, “Exactly. They fell in love and had babies. But the babies came out as kobolds. Some of them had more of the dragon side and could breathe fire, and some have more of the human side. So some get the boobs, and some don’t.”

“Wait, don’t you lay eggs?”

Kreet nodded. “Yeah. What’s your point?”

“So the babies don’t actually ‘come out’ I mean,” Brand pointed out.

“Okay then, they hatch. Does that make you feel better? Anyway, so that’s why some kobolds have boobs and some don’t.”

“Good an explanation as any I guess. Friar Guit has boobs and he’s a guy!”

“I know! Have you ever seen him in the shower? His boobs are bigger than his…” Kreet said, but then the dinner bell rang and they got up to go inside.

Meanwhile, Karl was hard at work on the laundry girl.