《The Long and Exciting Life of Kreet the Kobold (Life 2)》Interlude
Advertisement
"So they just let you go?" asked Marge, incredulous. "That doesn't sound like the Band at all!"
"The head guy - some cleric named Avelyn - thinks we'll come begging for them to come back. For now he agreed to stay out of the slums."
"WHAT? The Band is gone?" asked a man Kreet knew as John at the next table.
"That's what they said," Kreet nodded.
John looked to his drinking buddy. "Gone. Think it'll go back to the old days?"
His friend shrugged. "Probably. Better get some weapons."
"Does it get that bad around here?" Kreet asked, turning her chair to face the locals.
"It was pretty bad," John said. "Ullie was here longer than me. Tell her Ullie."
"Ah, back in the old days. Before the Band? Yeah, it was bad. Women daren't go outside 'cept the whores, and they needed bodyguards to get out to where the rich people lived. Had gangs back in those days. Hell, I was in one. Everybody was. If you weren't in a gang... well, one way or another you'd get in one. Either that or you left the city completely. It was tough though. One gang would get the upper hand for a while and you'd think you were safe, then BAM! A couple of the main guys would get themselves killed and then you were on the wrong side."
"And the Gang helped?"
"Oh yeah. They weren't official, mind you. The King's too smart for that. But when they came in they didn't mess around. They knew the gangs. A lot of 'em were recruited from them. So they knew what to look for. If they saw a gang member out after dark... well, we didn't see em again. It didn't take long for everyone to see where it was heading. At one time the gangs might have managed to take em on if they'd joined together. But there was too much bad blood between the gangs. I swear they were all gone in a month or two. Gone or joined the Band. I can tell you we were damn glad too."
"Glad to have the Band?!" Kreet asked.
"Hell yeah. They're thugs too, but they don't kill you for a fucking copper. You mind your business, give em what they ask for and they leave you alone. Look, it's sure as hell not the Guard, but compared to the days of the gangs... yeah, it's better than that."
Kreet looked to Sigmundurr. Kallid had fallen asleep when they got back to their room, and she'd left him sleeping fitfully. She worried about him, but he needed sleep.
"So, you think things will go back to the bad old days?" Kreet asked John, who shrugged.
Advertisement
"Who knows? Probably. Being able to crap in your own house is great, Kreet, but it doesn't really change things much. There's still hardly any people working here. Most go into the rich parts of town and do whatever they can to make money. Thieves and whores we mostly are here. Not out of choice mind you, but you gotta eat. You gotta feed the kids, you know?"
Kreet sighed and nodded. "No one's tried to rob me yet."
Ullie spoke up then. "You're one of us. We don't steal from our own. But out there... well, like John said, you gotta eat."
"Should I talk to Avelyn?" Kreet asked, realizing it might be inevitable.
The two men looked at each other. John shook his head. "Not yet. Since the Band's been around, we've gotten to be a fairly close community. I dunno, but maybe we'll avoid falling back into the old ways."
"Do me a favor. Spread the word about the Band. Maybe if everyone understands, we can stop things from falling apart without them."
"Kreet, we're a poor people around here. But everyone here is still here because we're tough. Gotta be. We'll last a while anyway. If not... well, bringing the Band back in isn't going to be that bad. They're an evil we've learned to live with."
*************************
The next day Kallid woke Kreet early.
"You okay?" she asked through sleepy eyes.
"Yeah," he said and she immediately remembered his voice.
"Wait a sec," she said, and touched his neck. She closed her eyes and felt the power flow gently from her to him. He allowed her to work her skill.
"There. How's that?"
Kalled cleared his throat. "It's... UHM. Oh, I think it's good. You're a great healer!"
"Not great. Good though. Only level three, but I can still help. Now what is it, Kally? What's got you up so early?"
He sat beside her and took one of her hands in his. His hands were smaller. Not terribly much, but his talons hadn't grown out much yet either.
"I've got to be able to live here too, Kreet. You've got... you know, things you can do. I can't do much of anything. I can pour drinks. I can make love to you. But I can't protect you. I can't protect our children."
"Oh Kally, you shouldn't worry..."
But Kallid interrupted her. "I know I'll never be like Sig. But hell, Marge could kick my ass. I need to get better, Kreet. In the Underdark I knew my way around. The Dark elves ran the place, and us kobolds knew what we needed to do to survive. But that never involved actually fighting. We'd never stand a chance. So we became servants."
Advertisement
"Kally..." Kreet started, but Kallid held a finger to her mouth.
"No, let me talk. I know you don't expect anything like that from me, but I expect it from me. Our kids need me to be stronger. I've been thinking about this for a while. I can work the bow on my own. And I promise you I'll get good at it. But I won't always have a bow handy either. I need your help, Kreet. You've been taught as a cleric. I need you to help me learn how to fight. Really fight."
Kreet nodded. And she knew he was right. If she was rich and could live in the nice part of town with nightly guards and neighbors that respected your rights he could have just remained a bartender. An oddity here of course, but he could have gotten by. But here, in the slums of the Royal City... No. He did need to be able to fight.
"Come on, Kally. Let's go out into the courtyard."
Sigmundurr came out later and sat watching. Kreet was glad he didn't mock Kallid. It would have been easy to. Kallid really knew nothing of fighting at all. She winced internally at her own memories of her training years ago with her master and Brand every time she felled him. But she also knew it was a necessary part of proper training. There would be bruises - hidden beneath his scales, but no less painful for that.
She helped him back up and gave him the stave back. "Sorry Kallid. You forgot the tail swipe."
He smiled weakly and gasped between breaths, "Um... can we stop for a while?"
"Let's call it a day, Kally. Your muscles aren't going to get stronger in just one day. It's going to take a long time. Maybe you can start practicing your archery instead?"
Kallid nodded. "I think that's probably a good idea. I'm pretty worn out."
"I'll go help Marge with the stew. I'll come back to get you when it's ready," she said, kissing him again. "I know it hurts, Kally. Believe me. But it will get better, eventually."
"Promise?" he asked her, not letting her go.
"I promise."
He went and picked up his bow and arrows as she left to go back inside.
"Sorry Kallid," Sig laughed as he got up and followed Kreet. "I don't know anything about playing bows and arrows! You're on your own."
He shrugged and went to the far end of the courtyard to set up a target.
Once inside, Kreet turned back and peered out a window, watching her husband for a while. He could barely pull the bowstring back, and the arrows didn't make it halfway to the target. She watched till he gave up and sat down, sobbing gently with his back to her. She wanted to go back out to him, to reassure him. But she knew this was something he had to handle on his own.
"Plucky little guy," Sig said quietly beside her. She jumped a little, not knowing he was still there.
"Worn out from our workout. He'll get it."
"Yeah."
Sig went to open the front doors. The workmen were still working on the building, and they had no rooms to rent yet, so they just opened the barroom around midday. There were a dedicated group of neighbors that they could rely on awaiting the opening though, and not all of them were alcoholics.
She looked back to the window again. She could see her husband had picked up the bow again and had gone back to practicing. He'd brought the target much closer.
"I shouldn't have brought him here," she thought. "There he is, a lone kobold, in a human city - in the rough part of town. I've taken him from the only home he's known, forced him to handle responsibilities he has no idea how to handle, and gotten him kidnapped and worse. For what? Just so I can have him cuddle me at night?"
Then her hands went to her belly. It was definitely getting bigger now, and she felt the three in her womb. Yes, it was a hell of a lot to ask of the little guy... but she wasn't just asking it for herself. She had abilities, but she couldn't do it all by herself either. When these little babies hatched, she would need him.
She heard the clatter of another arrow hitting the bricks outside.
She needed him, and she loved him. He would suffer for that, but he chose to suffer - and despite all that he'd already gone through, he wasn't asking for anything less. She might not be able to lighten that burden, but there were things that she could do to show her appreciation. Wifely things.
She smiled. Tonight she would make damn sure he knew how much she appreciated him, in any way he desired. He might be exhausted and bruised, but she could be careful.
"I'll make it all worth your while, Kallid. I promise," she whispered to the window as another arrow clattered to the bricks outside.
Advertisement
- In Serial135 Chapters
Reaper of Cantrips
On the alien planet of Scaldigir, where the people are grey, there are average individuals, and then, there are arcanes. Every arcane gets one power, except for the reapers. They can take as many powers as they want, so long as they lift them from the bodies of the dead and the dying. It’s a useful power that could preserve the best abilities among the arcanes – in theory. Thus far, every reaper has been too impatient to wait for the deaths of their comrades. Murder and neglect; the words are synonymous with reaper. That’s how everyone else sees it. Pan, the last of the reapers, doesn’t think she’s that bad. She hides among the arcanes as a ghost seer. She’s content, with being the one and only reaper, not to mention a secret, until she meets a special ghost. Updates Monday, Wednesday, Friday Revisions completed in April 2021
8 418 - In Serial9 Chapters
Rebirth Online V3
*This is the reworked version of my original story Rebirth Online, due to the vast changes that will be taking place and a desire for a proper number of views and new comments on the changes I have made a new page and will include a link back to the original Rebirth Online for those interested in seeing the changes. Click Here for Rebirth Online* Adam Sterling, A man who through a series of events went from being a bouncer at the local biker bar to being a pro gamer in the world of Rebirth Online, a fantasy VRMMO based upon real life ancestry and myth. Players will each have a tailor made story much like a tabletop campaign, their choices in all things will have an effect on the game itself even if it is small. Players will have their DNA tested which will allow accurate placement within the old world, in the same general area as their ancestors would have been. Allowing them to chose their starting area from the many races that make up their ancestry. from there they will undergo the Trials, a series of events serving as their entry into adulthood which will start the players off at the age of Thirteen, with every trial completed they will be advanced in age until they are Eighteen, from there they will have the option of staying Eighteen or advancing to their physical age. From there the world is open for them to go where they please, be it becoming a blacksmith, a cook, or a lord, though they will have to earn everything through the proper ways, hard work, and dedication to their roles. After all, one can not show up to a city expecting to be its mayor for nothing.
8 199 - In Serial36 Chapters
An Unwavering Craftsman
Given the hereditary nature of classes, everyone expects Damien—the child of two high-tiered adventurers—to be granted a high-tier combat class of his own. Expectations are betrayed, however, when Damien finds himself instead saddled with a crafting class of the lowest possible tier: [Neophyte Tailor]. Left practically crippled compared to those with better classes, Damien wants to avoid becoming a pawn in the machinations of the nobility, desiring only to grind his level in peace while wondering why the usual rules of inheritance were broken. Was it his desire to excel by his own effort, rather than an unearned blessing from a god? Did the Five take offence at his opinions on the unfairness of hereditary classes? Or maybe it was something to do with the alien voice that intruded on his ceremony? A voice that offers great power, and freedom from the tyranny of the Five, but that never names its price. This story is litRPG-lite. While the class someone possesses controls most of their lives, people don't get dinged at for every level they gain, nor can they see their status without undergoing a special ritual. The MC has no romantic interest. Crafting is merely a way to game the system, and doesn't feature heavily in the story, aside from a few descriptions on how they're carrying out the system abuse. There is, on one unfortunate occasion, maths. The pace is quick. This was a participant in the Spring 2022 writathon. (i.e. it was posted as-written at high speed. I may give it another editing pass in the future.)
8 182 - In Serial13 Chapters
One Body Two Minds
Two people get reincarnated into the same body and must work together to save the world from impending doom.
8 181 - In Serial16 Chapters
Ruins of Dalághast
I've been writing for as long as I can remember, but I'd always been torn between different projects. That's why I decided to dedicate myself to a pretty strict schedule of writing and editing a single chapter every month since the start of 2019. This is an ongoing, work in progress novel that follows a ragtag group of sellswords as they delve into a lost city on the edge of the known world in search of their fortunes. Within, though, they find much more than they ever expected and find themselves in a race against time to unravel a mystery centuries old. For those who want to see my work months earlier than it will be released here, alongside exclusive artwork and other perks, consider supporting me and my work on Patreon. https://www.patreon.com/atlaswrites
8 192 - In Serial70 Chapters
Memories | Jenzie Meme Book
A collection of Jenzie, Dance Moms and Brat TV memesEnjoy!**STARTED ON JUNE 27th 2020****COMPLETED ON JULY 7th 2020**
8 72