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!”