Sigmundurr knocked on her door a little later. Kreet opened the door to let the big man in. His blue eyes looked unexpectedly sober.

"Gator," he began. "I've been thinking..."

"Always a plus," she smiled and beckoned him to sit on the bed. "I've been hoping to catch one of you anyway. I need some things for tomorrow."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Well, I need 6 amber bottles for one, the darker the better. Some sandpaper too. They'll have some at a blacksmith's shop if not here. Some tools too. Mostly a good small, sharp knife and a file or rasp. Glue too. And a good length of dark cloth. Cloth you can't see through."

Sigmundurr repeated the items back to her.

"I'll give you some more gold for this," Kreet assured him, but he shook his head.

"I don't need more gold, Gator. That's what I came up here for."

"What, are you rich or something?"

"No. I just don't need gold. Ever. Handy to have a bit around, but it ties you down. You may have noticed I'm not exactly... civilized."

Kreet laughed. "Sig, you are nearly the definition of chaos embodied."

"Gator, I'd like to go with you tomorrow."

She sat back in her chair at that. In many ways, he was the last person she would want to travel with them. She'd seen him go berserk at the least provocation. Murderously berserk. She didn't want to imagine how many people he'd killed.

"Sig... you know I couldn't stop you if you wanted to. But... Sig, I don't like you. I've already tried to fight you before. You are the opposite of everything I believe in."

"I know. But you need me anyway."

"I need somebody Sig. I don't think I need you. You're too much for me to handle. I was going to ask Dinkle. Besides, you're an adventurer. I don't plan on this being an adventure. I just want to find my home!"

"Dinkle? He couldn't fight off an orc!"

"I don't know. You saw him. He's resourceful. Plus he's a monk. Not exactly the same as a cleric like me, but he follows a moral compass, while you..."

"Chaos," the big man said.

"Yes. I can't control you. I don't want to have to try. I'm no leader, Sig. I'm not even backup. Until recently I was working at a tavern and the most excitement I'd have was a slap on the butt. I like it that way, Sig. I don't want... this," she said, indicating her surroundings.

Sigmundurr looked to be considering something.

"You can't stop me from coming with you, you said."

"Well, that's for sure! Unless you're bound and shackled, you pretty much go where you want."

"I'm coming with you," he smiled.

"Sig! No! Did you not hear anything I just said?! I don't want you to!"

Sigmundurr stood up and shrugged, smiling. "I don't care. I'm going with you. You need me, at least until we get out of the Underdark. After that... well, we'll see."

"But why? For Pelor's sake, why would you want to?"

Sigmundurr stepped to the door, holding it open before he left. "I like you, little kobold. That's enough reason for Sigmundurr. I don't like people often. I will be your leader. Till we're out anyway. I'll get your stuff. Oh, you can come back down now. The crowd has left."

He closed the door. This was definitely not going the way she'd envisioned at all.

She looked up at the ceiling and pictured it in her mind. Beyond it was the roof, she supposed. A roof that had never seen rain. And above that, high above it, was the roof of the gigantic cavern that held the entire city she was in. Above that was probably miles of rock, dirt and who knows what else. Then above that was the great Outside as the residents here called it. Outside the Underdark, where light and darkness alternated. Where rain fell and wind blew and flowering plants grew. And above that was the sky. She was trained to think of that as the dwelling place of Pelor, though the presence of her own powers even here in the Underdark argued against his abode being in any specific place. Beyond that was the stars and moons. How far away they were, she couldn't fathom. Maybe this was Pelor's will after all. She might be a acolyte, but she knew as little as anyone how his mind worked.

Or maybe this was the work of Nerull, the God of darkness. Presumably the god of Kallid. This was undoubtedly his domain. She'd read enough about her own kind, even if she hadn't grown up with them, to know that they worshipped and feared their god of darkness. She didn't fear Pelor. She loved him. "It!", she laughed to herself. She couldn't picture the God of Light with some gigantic penis, even if that's what all the monks she'd known had implied he must have. What would he even use it for? No, for her at least, Pelor wasn't a man or a woman. He wasn't a he. But "It" sounded too impersonal, and she did feel a personal connection with him. So she'd just keep calling Pelor "He" for sake of convenience. He could be a kobold for all she knew, or cared. He gave her strength, comfort and the meager powers she did possess.

As an acolyte, she felt like she was failing. As far as she knew, she'd not converted a single soul to Pelor. But her method was the method her Master had taught her - to lead them to Pelor by example, not by proselytizing. In the end, her Master had let her down when she learned of his true history, in the harshest of ways. But she still followed his methods. She knew no other way. She went on her knees. She knew instinctively that kneeling was in no way related to praying, but it did focus her mind.

Then, something happened. Something like a white light washed over her. It had happened once before, and she knew what it was. She had been Raised. Somehow, with all her mistakes and foolish actions, Pelor had seen fit to raise her to the next level. She thanked him, but was too eager to find out what new powers she had gained. The knock on the door was annoying. But she rose anyway and opened the door. Sigmundurr was there with her supplies.

"Thanks Sig! Well, I've accepted you are coming whether I like it or not. I don't want too many people though, so it's just you, me and Kallid. Just leave those on the bed."

"That's a smart lizard," Sigmundurr laughed.

"Well, when a boulder comes crashing down the path at you, you don't try and stop it. You just try to stay out if its way," Kreet replied, not without humor.

"That's right!" Sigmundurr agreed and patted her head. It was an annoying thing he did, and botheringly patronizing. She'd gotten used to it. Being a kobold, it was pretty much a requirement. It didn't help that until recently she had played the part of 'stupid little naive kobold', and once someone's opinion of you has been set it's not an easy thing to change. She accepted it with good grace.

"Sig, if you're coming with us, would you mind terribly getting supplies together? Take some coin. I'm going to be busy here for quite a while."

"Sure Gator. 5 gold should do it."

"Thanks Sig. And Sig..." Kreet said as he turned around at the door.

"Yeah?"

"Look... I'm sorry about what I said before. It's not that I don't like you. It's just... you're YOU, you know?"

"Always have been. No problem Gator. I know I'm a bit much. But sometimes you need someone like me."

"And sometimes you don't! Try and control yourself, will you? For me?"

"No promises, Gator. I am who I am. But I'll try... a little," he said and closed the door behind him.

She sighed and turned to the supplies on her bed. It was getting late it was going to take a long time to make two good, functional sunglasses for her and Kallid. She picked up the empty bottles and the tools and began breaking glass carefully. She'd done this so many times over the years, she didn't so much as scratch herself. Working with unfamiliar tools was the only challenge, but it was a slow and intricate process anyway. Yet she had gotten good at it. She wondered idly while she worked if this craft making mindset was why kobolds were legendary for their trap making ability. Probably.

Finally she had finished and the night was getting late. She put away the debris, made her necessary oblations to Nature and Pelor, and crawled into bed. She didn't have to blow out any candle - she had been working in all but pitch darkness the entire time. A bell rang from the tavern room and she heard footsteps in the hallway open and close as voices passed by her door. She recognized some of them.

Then a light knock came and she opened the door. Kallid stepped in and she took his hand, not saying anything. She closed the door quietly and locked it. Then she led him to her bed. True to his word, he didn't try to do anything too intimate or dangerous. But she did enjoy his attentions and returned them with attentions of her own. An hour later she fell to sleep in his embrace, his head under hers. She could come to like this, she realized. Yes, she could definitely get used to this.