Inwardly Kreet breathed a sigh of relief. She had been spared telling the Bishop about her encounter with Eilistraee. Though she knew the dark goddess was not directly an enemy of Pelor, it was not at all likely that Bishop Wynda would agree. And she hadn’t had to lie to avoid it.

But the Bishop was looking directly at her, waiting for her response. Was this a bigger question than it appeared? What did she want?

“I… I just want a safe place to raise my family.”

“Really?” the Bishop asked, a hint of a smile on her face. “Let’s say I were to give you a residence nearby, would that suffice? Maybe an official position in the church. You and your children would be well taken-care of.”

Kreet’s head instinctively cocked to the side again. This was certainly unexpected! She thought about it and realized quickly that it wasn’t enough. It really wasn’t enough. She thought about the other people in the slums. They were just people, no better or worse than any others. She had come to the city only looking for a place - a nest. But she’d already found one, and she didn’t want to give it up, even for a better place.

“No. That wouldn’t suffice. It would be generous, but it wouldn’t be home. I’ve found my home already.”

“Ah. I thought not. You are truly a Cleric, Kreet. Others might be lured by safety and security alone, but you want more, don’t you? More for others. I heard about your sewer exploit. You don’t go digging through shit if you’re just concerned about yourself.”

“I want the city watch to patrol the slums again,” she said, knowing deep down that this was what she really wanted. It was the right answer. She would work for her place in the city. She didn’t want it given to her. But there were things that were out of her control.

Bishop Wynda looked to Avelyn. “What’s the status of the slums now?”

“Since the Band stopped patrolling, I know of four murders and ten robberies. The numbers are growing rapidly though. I expect another month or two and it will be chaos. The locals will be demanding the Band return.”

“And I assume that’s not what you want, Kreet? For the Band to return?”

Kreet was getting angry. “You heard what I want. The city watch. Under the orders of the King.”

“The watch isn’t perfect either, Kreet. And they will need to be paid. The locals will need to pay taxes again.”

“Within reason, they will pay,” she said, feeling confident she spoke for everyone she knew there. “As commerce returns to the area, they will be able to pay more. But without order, there can be no commerce. The Band provides order, but uses thuggery and threats to achieve it. The watch does so by the consent of the people. We need the watch.”

“And you, Avelyn? What will the Band do if the Watch returns to the slums?”

“What we’ve always done. Go back to being the Thieves Guild. It’s still a way of keeping order, even if it is a criminal order.”

Kreet looked at Avelyn. “Thieves Guild?”

“Of course. When the Watch gave up on policing the slums, we were the only people who could keep the place from going up in flames. It was us or anarchy, and eventually anarchists come for the King and those in power.”

“So, you condone thievery then?!”

“No more than prostitution. No more than gambling. It is a vice that is going to happen whether we condone it or not. But we can get close to it and keep it from getting out of hand. The Watch couldn’t. Not when the whole place had gone to hell. Not when stealing meant the difference between watching your children starve and watching them eat. Everyone becomes a thief when things get hard enough.”

“He’s right, Kreet. I wasn’t the Bishop when this arrangement was worked out. The King wasn’t the King. But we accepted what needed to be accepted.”

“But the sewers are working now. Things are improving!” Kreet protested. “Things don’t have to go back to the way they were.”

The Bishop nodded. “I will speak with the King. I cannot give assurances, but I think he will listen. Avelyn, your men will be okay with this?”

He nodded and turned to Kreet. “Those that weren’t okay with it have already left the city. Your Big Jake is one of them.”

Kreet nodded and was honestly relieved. “Good. Look, we can’t police ourselves. We are too poor for that. But the majority want restoration of order too. Please tell the King that. We are not anarchists! Don’t drive us into becoming ones. Like Avelyn said, everyone is a thief when things are hard enough.”

The Bishop rose again and crossed to Kreet, who stood and then knelt, knowing the audience was at an end.

“I’ll get word to you Kreet. And I wish you luck. I don’t know where your life is going, but I see the good you are doing. You are bringing light into dark places - converts or no. You are doing the work of Pelor, even if from the most unlikely of sources. I sincerely wish you well. Also, I would like you to attend our services at the Cathedral next week. Could you do that for me? It would be an honor to introduce you to the faithful.”

Suddenly Kreet remembered something else she wanted. She might not get the chance to ask again.

“There is one more thing,” she started.

The Bishop took her hand and she rose again. “Yes? What else can I do for you?”

“The archives. I would like a day to spend in the archives under the Cathedral. With someone who knows them and can help me.”

“Ah. You still seek your old monastery?”

“To be honest, I seek my old tavern more. I miss my friends.”

“Granted. You come to service at the Cathedral, and I’ll grant you access with the head of the archives for as long as you need. Avelyn, see them out of the palace and then return. I’d like to discuss this Watch business with you before I talk with the King tomorrow.”

Kreet bowed once more and Avelyn ushered them out.

Once out of the room, they proceeded back through the corridors and stairs of the palace.

“An odd line of work for a Cleric of Avandra isn’t it?”

“Odd profession for a kobold to be a Cleric of Pelor. But here we are.”

“But thievery? I’m not a devotee of Avandra, but it doesn’t seem like the head of the Thieves’ Guild would be a calling of the Changegiver.”

“You still give me too much credit, Kreet. I might be considered the mouthpiece of the Guild, and yes, even highly ranked among them. But there is no head of the Guild. We work together towards common goals.”

They were walking down the curved staircase leading to the Grand Hall again. It didn’t fail to impress, though Kallid noted that from this angle they could see the statue’s butts. That made Kreet laugh, and suddenly - though the Palace was still a place of opulence, beauty and impressiveness to a small kobold - the place became less intimidating. The realization that all these great humans, beautiful and cold in their stone monuments, still had had to walk around their entire lives with their backsides immodestly uncovered by tails. She couldn’t stop laughing and Avelyn stopped, not understanding.

“No tails!” she managed. “You have no tails to cover your butts!”

He frowned at her. “I beg your pardon! We have clothes for that.”

“I bet you get spanked all the time!” she kept laughing as he ignored her and led on.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, trying to recompose herself. “I just never thought about it before.”

At the door he stopped, looking none too happy at her continued stifled giggling.

“Thanks, Avelyn. I misjudged you.”

“You know, the Changegiver is also a patron of merchants,” he said. “I do truly wish you luck in your own enterprise.”

“Thank you. No hard feelings?”

“You know, if the King doesn’t consent to the Watch, the Band will be back.”

“I know. But I’ll feel better knowing you’ll be there to keep the worst of them from going too far.”

“Thank you, Kreet. You know your way back?”

She nodded and he turned to go back inside.

She could no more stop her hand than stop the sun from rising. The slap on his buttocks reverberated around the grand hallway within, followed by gales of kobold laughter from Kreet and Kallid both.

He gave her a cross look and closed the door as the two laughed all the way back to the gates.