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!”