The path joined with another, larger and more worn, that could truly be called a road. By the time they reached it, it was deserted. They passed their first remote farmstead, the house far from the road and invisible behind the woods, but they could hear the occasional bark of a large dog.

"I grew up on a farmstead like that," Sigmundurr said, breaking the silence that had come over them. "Rough life. You've gotta be tough way out here. Need a real pioneer spirit to live at the end of the line."

Kreet smiled at that. "Or you really don't like other people a lot!"

"That too," Sigmundurr agreed, not realizing it was intended as a joke.

"You were a farmer? I don't picture that," Eilistraee picked up the conversation.

"Not really. Dad was. He kicked me out. Deserved it though. I sucked as a farmer. My brothers were a lot better than me. Hell, my sister was better than me. Plus I kept running off to the tavern and coming back drunk. And... not alone."

"Oh! Were you popular with women when you were young?" Kallid asked.

"Whaddaya mean when I was young?! I'm still young!"

"I... mean, when you were living with your dad." Kallid countered quickly.

"Oh. Well, no. Not really. I had to pay em."

"Whores? Your mom and dad didn't mind?" Kreet asked, incredulous.

"Mom ran off after I was born. Never knew her. Just Dad. I don't think he minded that so much. Heck, he brought some home sometimes himself. But he didn't care for me straying out of my race. I liked the exotics. One morning he caught me with a cat girl and booted me out."

"What, is he racist or something?" asked Kreet.

"Oh, probably. But it was the best thing for me. I hooked up with some adventuring fellas and never looked back. Turns out I made a pretty good figher."

The trees became sparser as the road continued, and farmsteads became more numerous. They met their first fellow traveler, though he was drunk and sleeping it off by the side of the road. He woke at the sound of their approach, but just gaped at them the four walked by.

"Good evening," Kreet said, bowing to him as they passed.

"E...evening," he managed.

Otherwise the evening was theirs to traverse in peace. They had covered many miles, with not too many stops, when Kreet asked the question Kallid had whispered to her a short time before.

"Hey, Eilistraee. Do you have any ideas on where we should stop before morning yet? Kallid's not really ready for full daylight yet."

She looked at the kobold, valiantly managing to stay up with the others, though the stress was beginning to show. Kreet had been travelling with 'big folk' for most of her life and her legs had become accustomed to a quicker gait, plus she was at least somewhat larger than Kallid which also helped in that regard.

"I do, in fact," Eilistraee assured them. "There's an old widower, lives not far from the road just a bit farther ahead. I think he would be happy for the company. His caretaker has left him for a day so he's all alone. In fact, I think I'll join you this time."

"Oh! Even in the day?"

"I'll help keep the house dark. Kallid won't have any problem. Sound good?"

Sigmundurr laughed, "Sounds good Eilistraee. Do we have a choice?"

True to her word, they turned off the road and down a winding cart-path until they came to a small, poor but well-kept house. A light was on inside. A single candle could be seen moving around inside. As the approached, they could hear humming.

Sigmundurr knocked at the door. The man within was wearing an old frayed robe and was apparently going about his morning breakfast ritual.

Eilistraee whispered, "He's a little hard-of-hearing Sig. Bang harder."

He did so, and the old man finally took notice.

"Who's here at this hour?" he asked, approaching with his candle held high.

"Just some travelers, seeking some shelter for the day."

"Travelers eh? I'm just an old man. I've got nothing worth stealing."

"Hey," Sigmundurr pointed out, "We did knock! Thieves wouldn't do that."

"No... no they wouldn't. Well come on in. Let's see what we've got here..."

"Oh my!!!" he cried when Eilistraee made her entrance behind Sigmundurr, "Well aren't you a Beauty!"

"Thank you, Sir Bart."

"Well sit your pretty self down over there on the couch. My, this is turning into quite a morning! And a couple of little kobolds too? What are you two doing out of your caves?"

"Thank you for your hospitality," Kreet said, and he nodded back to her, then poked his head looking around outside for more.

"And polite ones at that! That all of you?"

"That's all," Sigmundurr said. "Sorry for the imposition, but the kobolds like to travel at night and there's really no where else to stay before morning."

"Oh, hell. No problem. But lady, how do you know my name? I don't even go by that anymore. You one of those mages? Never liked em."

"Something like that, Sir Bart."

"You want some clothes or something? I'm making some tea. I can add more."

"Thanks," Eilistraee replied sweetly. "But I'm more comfortable like this."

"What's 'tea'?" Kallid asked, brightening up now that he could rest a little.

"'What's tea?' Why, young feller, it's only the best drink in the world. Well, without alcohol in it. Can't drink the good stuff anymore. Wynda - she's my boy's wife. Comes by to take care of me. Anyway, she says I'll die if I drink the good stuff again. Probably right."

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The old man left the room into another, presumably a kitchen, but the open space between the rooms in the little house allowed for the conversation to continue.

"So you live here alone?" Kreet asked.

"My, but you talk well for a kobold! Oh no. Got my cats. Not much for conversation, but I like 'em. Don't worry, I don't let em in. Knew a girl once. Real cat lover. Lived for em. House smelled like cat piss. Oh it was awful."

"I hope we're not too much of an imposition anyway," Kreet continued.

The old man, Sir Bart, returned and sat in an old overstuffed and worn chair slowly. "Got more water on the boil. Oh, you're no imposition at all. Not much happens in my life anymore, you know. Basically just sit around and wait for Old Bones to arrive. Glad to have the company. So what brings you here? I assume by the kobolds you're coming up from the Drow caves?"

Sigmundurr nodded. "Yup. This is Kreet. She was raised by humans up top. We're looking for her home. She sorta got lost. That other kobold she's all touchy-feely with is her husband, Kallid. And he is just out of the caves but wanted to come along. I'm Sigmundurr. Just kinda along for the ride. And this here..."

As he turned to the goddess, she rose and crossed over to the old man.

"This is the goddess Eilistraee."

"A goddess? In my house?"

"Pleased to meet you, Sir Bart. We met once before. Long ago. You killed quite a few of my drow as I recall. Well, perhaps 'met' is too strong. I became aware of you."

The old man's eyes grew wide.

"Relax, Sir Bart. You were justified. I'm not here to take your soul."

"Eilistraee. Can't say I remember the name, honestly. But I'm honored you would come to my door! A goddess. Wynda will never believe this!"

Eilistraee took his hand. "No, she won't. Maybe we could just keep it a secret? She'll think you're going senile."

"I am you know." he said, looking forlorn into the goddess' eyes.

"You are what?" Kallid asked, interested.

"Senile. I can't remember things. Little things now, but it's getting worse. And I forget where I am. Sometimes I think I'm back... I'm going senile."

"You are," Eilistraee said, sitting beside him and stroking his head. "It is a sad thing, but it is the way of life, you know. You must make room for the new ones coming up. But you'll not be senile while I am in your house, Sir Bart."

"No. I'm not right now, am I? I can tell."

"If you'd like, Sir Bart... I can call him. I can call Old Bones to come and fetch you after we leave. Would you prefer that?"

The old man's eyes began to tear up. "It's a temptation, to be sure." he said, and he ran his own hand down the goddess' flank as if oblivious to just who it was he was groping. "But even when senile, I can still appreciate beauty. I don't want to leave yet. Not quite yet. I might just have a use still in this world."

Kreet was a little surprised the goddess allowed such familiarity, but she hugged him to her instead and kissed his forehead before rising. He ran his fingers across her back and bottom as she walked back to sit beside Sigmundurr.

"Yes, you might at that, Sir Bart. I am sorry for your affliction"

"Could you cure it?" Kreet asked.

A scream came then from the other room causing Kallid to jump up, alarmed.

"What's that?!" he shouted, worried.

"Oh, relax little kobold. It's just the water for the tea. I'll be right back."

"I could, Kreet." Eilistraee admitted to Kreet. "But then a worse affliction would follow. Senility is a terrible disease, it's true. His daughter-in-law sees it and it breaks her heart as he is slowly lost. But the alternatives are worse. You all must die, Kreet. There is no good death, despite what the novelists would have you believe. No one dies peacefully in their sleep. They die choking or gasping for breath or worse. Life doesn't like giving up. Nature and Fate have decreed this is to be his end. It's not such a bad end, as such things go."

Sir Bart returned with two cups of tea, and Eilistraee rose to help him, taking them and distributing them to the kobolds.

"No, it's not so bad," he said, returning to the kitchen where Eilistraee followed to help. They returned with three more cups, Eilistraee handing one to Sigmundurr and taking the other for herself as she sat back down while the old man eased himself back into his old chair.

"It's not like I haven't thought about it," he said, then a thought came to him. "Oh! I'm sorry, Eilistraee. I guess you don't really drink!"

"I can. Or not. But as long as I'm here among you mortals, I'm happy to."

"Well, then I hope you like it! My own special blend."

They stopped talking for a moment while they sipped at their tea.

"Very hot," Kreet whispered to Kallid. "Let it cool down first. Will burn your mouth." So the two kobolds just blew on the top of their cups to cool it.

"Wow!" Sigmundurr said, after having taken a sip. "That's actually pretty good. And I don't like tea!"

"Why thank you. Since I retired here, I've been growing and refining tea in a little garden out back. You're drinking years of refining and blending of different varieties."

"Sir Bart's Best!" Sigmundurr named it.

"Indeed, it is. I'm glad you like it. But, hey, I'm keeping you. The sun should be coming up soon. Wait... it should already be up! Strange."

"Oh, sorry. I should have warned you. I'm doing that, Sir Bart," Eilistraee confessed. "If you step outside it will be morning as you know it. But the light is still tough on little Kallid here."

"A goddess. Strange. Should I be, I don't know, kneeling or something?"

"Probably. But don't. I'm suppressing that anyway. No, just treat me like a mortal."

"If I were to treat you like a mortal, you might not like it!" the old man leered.

"You get used to it... somewhat," Sigmunder laughed, understanding completely.

After their tea, the old man suggested they go out and sit on the porch. Kallid admitted to being tired anyway, so he went back to the bedroom. It was a small room with only the one bed. After some quiet discussion, the kobolds decided to make a bed on the floor at the foot of the bed instead, leaving the bed to Sigmundurr.

"Or Eilistraee. If she's really going to stay with us all day."

"Let's let them figure that out," Kreet replied. "Are you sure Kallid? I can just sleep here beside you. I'm tired too."

"No, you go on with them. I'll be fine. Just wake me when you get back."

"I will," Kreet said and nuzzled her mate before stepping back to the common room, donning her 'sunglasses', and opening the door to the porch.

She shielded her eyes reflexively as the light from the sun could be seen peeking through the trees to the east. But she recovered quickly. The old man was rocking slowly on a chair with a curved bottom, while Sigmundurr and Eilistraee sat on a bench tied to the roof with rope, slowly swaying back and forth while watching a cat fumble with a moth some ways off.

Eilistraee patted the bench on the other side of her, inviting Kreet to sit there, so she did so. Her legs couldn't reach the porch, but Sigmundurr started the bench to swinging again.

"Pity," the old man was saying. "Sunrise is the most beautiful time of day."

"You okay with being out in the daylight, Eilistraee?" Sigmundurr asked the goddess.

"Fine. It's not my domain, and we gods try to keep out of each other's way. But Pelor is happy with me for helping Kreet out, so I'm good. Sorry, Kreet, I was just telling Sir Bart that I don't get to see the sun rise very much. It really is gorgeous."

The old man was smoking a long pipe he had presumably lit from the kitchen stove. Kreet watched in fascination as he blew smoke rings while they watched.

"This reminds me of a my adopted father, long ago," she said after a time of silence. "My first human. We used to sit on his porch too. Watching his cat. Evenings though. We slept in the mornings."

"Sunset's are fine too," Sir Bart said between puffs. "But they always reminded me of the end of things. Sunrise is the beginning. Beginnings are nicer."

"Speaking of which," Eilistraee said, and Kreet felt the godess' cool hand on her shoulder. It felt very nice. It's good to have a friend who's a goddess, she thought.

Then suddenly she connected what Eilistraee was implying. She looked up at the dark face in alarm.

"I'm....?"

"Two in fact. Yes, Kreet."

"Two! Are they..."

"Tsk tsk tsk, impatient kobold. You'll have to wait and see."

The old man looked at them, confused.

"She's pregnant," Eilistraee explained. "Got two little buns in her oven."

"Oh! That's wonderful! Congratulations Kreet!"

"Thank you! I guess! But that means... Oh my god. The sand begins to run through the hourglass!"

Eilistraee's face turned a bit more serious, but the smile was still there. "Yes Kreet. You have about 6 months to find your home - or make a new one for yourself."

"Eilistraee! I have no idea how to... do this! I read some books, but they were by humans. They didn't talk about birth! Or how to raise babies!"

She felt the cool hand stroke her and her initial panic passed as the goddess's words of comfort calmed her. "Relax, Kreet. Your body knows how to do what it needs to do. I'm afraid as a goddess, I can't provide much advice. And these men are even worse, so don't look to them. Kallid will help for support, but he won't know anything either. You're best off to find another female friend. A mother. These men only know how to plant it. Nurturing and harvesting isn't their forte. Just do your best. You will do fine."

Kreet looked into the eyes of the goddess, fear apparent. Deep down, she knew she wanted this, but now that it was confirmed, she was right back with the fear she'd had at first.

"Kreet, Take comfort in that. This is coming from a goddess who knows. You WILL do fine."