Beliefs

[Zerrif]

"Listen, kid, it's great and all that you wanna help but seriously, you're just gonna get in the way." The merchant mumbled, and the priest just nodded. "I doubt you've even been trained with that thing. A kid like you shouldn't be waving weapons around like you're an adventurer. Cause you're not. It takes hard work, time, and effort to be an adventurer. Because they're fighters."

"He's right." The priest said, though his tone was far softer. "We're just looking out for you, okay? We can't look out for you if we're fighting, and we can't fight if we're babysitting you. Please, just stay inside my Basilica, and we'll get this done. I promise we'll take you on an adventure in our Party some time, okay?" The merchant didn't seem to pleased with the last comment, but it seemed like the kid was buying it.

"I'll even personally craft you any kind of weapon you want, for when you do come." The merchant added. A smith? "please, just stay inside the bloody barrier, and let us do our job." Disgruntled, Gerik turned around and stepped back inside the safe barriers the priest had set.

It didn't take long for other battle-hardened adventurers to come in and help clear the city, the strangely clad group having left as soon as more help had arrived. Few people had been hurt, who had been brought to the church, or the Basilica for healing and safety. Gerik sat in the very middle, clinging his sword to his chest, as if he had been clinging to his very last strand of life.

What the hell had he been thinking? The two were right, he wasn't about to go in and become an amazing swordsman. He knew very little about fighting as it was. What little he knew was whatever he could overhear from the priests teaching the Acolytes, but even then if an Acolyte was set on fighting, they were soon sent to St. Capitolina Abbey to learn under the monks.

A shadow loomed over him, forcing him to look up, seeing the Priest smiling down at him. "Why do you look so glum?" He asked, before he took a seat beside the young one. Gerik just let out a sigh, and the Priest put an arm around his shoulders, pointing to the sky. "We're going to go on an adventure. See the world a little, you know? Come on, let's go get you some armor and some supplies. It'll be fun." He said, before he stood up. Gerik blinked. He was... excited?

He stood up, still clutching his sword, when the Blacksmith came by, and swiped it from his hands. "You know," He started, unsheathing the blade and looking it over. "I have nothing against mass-produced weapons, but I've always loved my own over something made. Has a better feel to it. What kind of weapons you like kid, swords?" He asked. Gerik stared at him awestruck.

"U-Uhm... I guess?" He managed to say, before that made the smith snarl.

"Don't guess. Tell me what you know how to use. We're going to adventure with you. That means we put our lives in your hands, we're trusting you with them. We don't want you to be incompetent with anything. You're doing the same with us. That's what a party is. You trust the others to do their job rightly, and properly. So tell me kid, what are you good with?" Gerik blinked at the smith's words. Though harsh, they rang true and sounded like words of wisdom, rather than a berating or a scolding.

"I've... handled a couple maces before in the church but--" He started, before the Blacksmith smiled, tightening his grip on the blade that he had just bought.

"Good. I'll sell this back to the shop for a pretty penny, use that to buy materials, and get started on your order." A mischevious, almost lewd smile crossed the elder's features. "You know where to meet me." He added, looking up at the Priest, who just nodded back. As quickly as he had came, the smith heaved his cart onto its wheels, and started walking away.

"He's right, you know." The priest said, ushering Gerik out of the Basilica, and into the now safe streets. "That's what a party is. Every member brings something of their own to the table. And it's all of that combined that makes the party strong. If you can't do your job right, you'll only hurt everyone else." Gerik nodded, and the Priest beamed. "You know, I met him a long time ago, back when I was an Acolyte. And I was much like you. I wanted to help so desperately, but I didn't know how. I wasn't good at fighting, good at taking hits, good at dealing damage with various elemental spells; but I just knew I wanted to help. I soon found out that the spirit was all I needed. He could do the killing, and I had to support him. I found that's where I wanted to be. Supporting others was what I was good at. We parted ways soon after the first time, but we eventually found our way back together time and time again."

"Support..." Gerik mumbled, not even realizing they'd entered the shop once more, and that the Priest had gathered some simple armors in his hand. They were at the register, and the man of the robes had paid for everything, then held them out with a hand to Gerik. "I--"

"Trust me. You'll do your share on the adventure, I know it. The only thing I ask is that you do this one day for another adventurer you see, just getting on their feet. That's what I vowed to my husband when we got married. We were going to help who we could. He's just a little... rougher along the edges."

Gerik took the armor, before he stopped and stared. They were back outside, but his gaze fell on the Priest. "A man of the clergy... marrying another man? I thought--" He started. No, he didn't think. He knew. He'd lived in the Church for so long that-- his thoughts were cut off, as the Priest flashed a ring on his hand, with a giggle.

"Times, and people change. Things aren't always seen eye to eye. But the world keeps on turning, no matter what you believe. That's the truth of it. If people aren't bothered by us, we help them. If they are, then they can get help elsewhere, you know? There's no point in wasting time with people who'll just reject us." The priest said, before he stopped. "So? Are you going to come, or not? I won't ask for that armor back, or money for it-- and my husband will still make you the weapon. Whether or not you come is up to you."

Gerik bit his bottom lip. The priest was right-- why should he see the two as any different? When it came down to it, they were just two kind souls wanting to help others. Anything else meant very little to that fact. "So where are we going first?" He asked, with a wide grin.