Beliefs

[Zerrif]

Gerik felt his chest heaving, his lungs burning as he ran with all his might down the halls. Dear god, were they just going in circles? Every ant looked like the next, each turn just as dark and seemingly filled with danger. "Don't look back!" He heard over his shoulder, and he felt his muscles tighten and relax, as the Priest quickly sent his agility into overdrive once more.

He stumbled a little, feeling an arm curl around his stomach, the Blacksmith hoisting him up before he could hit the ground, running with him for a few steps. He was dangled low however, and his feet touched the ground, breaking into a run again. The Blacksmith nodded, and let go, and it was as if the Novice had never fallen. Everything had been going so well-- he was going to tell them what he was going to be, and now he was never going to become--

"Uuagh!" Came a muffled cry, sending the pair skidding to a halt. Looking back, they saw the Mage flying for a split second, before he hit the ground hard, face-first. The Priest skidded too, and instantly drew his staff. The smith charged from behind him, getting in the way of a mad dashing arclouse, taking the full hit without the Priest's Kyrie Eleison, or any real preparation.

"Heal!" The Priest chanted, apparently not worrying about the smith just yet. The Mage was circled by a green wall of light, and slowly got to his feet, looking around. "Don't tarry! Hurry up!" he called out, snapping Bascht into action, who began to run again. The Priest turned around to Gerik, turning his back on the fight. Wasn't that a bad, bad thing to do?

He just smiled softly, and pointed at the ground, where a transparent grey circle appeared, marked by magical lines, and symbols. "Warp Portal!" He chanted, as the same blue pillar of light opened like it did before. "Hurry, get out of here! I told you, I promised you if we met Maya, you wouldn't get hurt. So get out before I can't keep that promise any longer!" The Priest urged. He didn't even wait for an answer, turning back to the fight, offering the Smith some support. Supportive spells were soon chain-cast with battle-hardened precision, and Gerik blinked.

"B-but--!" He started. Everything was happening so fast, he could barely keep up. He drew his mace, before a hand fell on his shoulder. He turned to see Bascht, urging him towards the portal.

"Don't be a fool, you'll get yourself killed. If they can barely survive against Maya, what do you think you can do? We need to go, we'll just get in the way." The voice from behind the mask was scarily clear, and serious to boot. "We all have our jobs to do, right? That's been the whole lesson out here. Our job now, is to get out of the way, and retreat when it was called. We can go back, and get them some help, but for now, we can't tarry here any longer."

Gerik frowned at how right he was. He took one last look at the fight, seemingly terribly one-sided as the Blacksmith was continually assaulted from all sides, under the Priests hail of support. Even so, the Priest would run out of energy at some point... and at that point-- he only hoped that they could get them some sort of help to arrive before then. He allowed himself to be pulled into the portal, feeling his body wretch and churn.

The feeling didn't last as long this time, since his mind was racing with far more important things than his own well being. As soon as he felt his feet touch the paved streets of Prontera, he quickly stepped forward, and yelled aloud. No real words, just a mighty yell, of frustration, anger, and fear.

---

"Tell me, Gerik, why after all this time, did you choose to become an Acolyte?" Father Mareusis asked. Gerik blinked a little, looking up from his kneeling position on a small cushion that was in front of the Priest's lectern in the side room. "I mean, after your adventures, you could have become anything you wanted."

"... I..." He started, before Father Mareusis just sighed.

"I'm not condoning your decision. I'm very glad you chose to join the Holy Order. But you cannot blame yourself for the happenings in Ant Hell. That... is an unfortunate happening of adventuring. Things go awry, and--"

"I was inspired." Gerik interrupted. "He... They... in the face of danger, and certain death, they were not afraid to give their lives for those they were teaching. I want to be like them, Father. I want to be a teacher who is not afraid. Someone who will step into a fight without regrets, or holding back. It's just not my place on the front lines. I will do my best to support those that I trust, with this belief in mind. And I will not back down. For I owe my life to that belief."

"... I see. Very well put, young Acolyte. Rise, Acolyte Gerik. I hereby officially induct thee into the clergy. May you bring benevolence and light unto others around you."

---

"Hey hey! You're lookin' pretty spiffy there, aren'tcha?" Came a voice from outside the church. Gerik was just stepping out, dressed in his new Acolyte's robes-- a deep black, emblazoned and lined with a lining of silver, and accents of gold. "Congratulations, Gerik. I'm sure they'd be proud."

"Thank you, D." He said, politely, before he bowed. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, though. Father Mareusis wished to speak with me for a little while after the induction ceremony was finished. Where is Bascht?" He asked, looking around. The flower mage was nowhere in sight.

"Ah, he just remembered to get an Incubator for his pet. With the juice he's got, Pillow ain't gonna be hungry for a while." D replied, heaving up his cart. "You ready to go? We're heading out to Payon." Gerik replied with a silent nod, as the Mage came running back down the street, a small white ball hopping along beside him.

"Sorry." Bascht said, apologetically, adjusting his mask. "But look, we've got a fourth member again!" Gerik wasn't sure if he was meant to smile, but he did so regardless-- the kid was only trying to lighten the mood. The small Lunatic hopped his way over to the cart, and sat upon a couple bags of it, the Blacksmith barely even noticing he was there.

"So you have to make a delivery in Payon, right?" Gerik asked. "I suppose Bascht and I could investigate the dungeon while you do so. I heard from a Priest out in the Saint Capitolina Abbey that there's a small undead problem. I'm sure the two of us can help somehow."

"That's a great idea!" D replied, before he leaned down, and lifted the side of the mask slightly, before it was snapped back firmly into place. "Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's head to Izlude, and catch a boat to Alberta. We can walk to Payon from there, and I've gotta stop by the Merchant's Guild to drop off a couple receipts anyway. That okay with you, hon?" He asked, looking over at the smiling flower. Bascht nodded quickly, making Gerik smile at the sight.

"I... will never forget the both of you. My only regret at this point, was never learning the names of the two teachers who will have guided me upon this path. Goddess Freya, please watch over their souls, let them rest together, forever."

[Zerrif]

The trek to Izlude proved quite pleasant for the three, the small party growing to know each other better. "So the two of you met in Prontera, huh?" Gerik asked, as they headed south east towards the Swordsman's City. "How'd that turn about?"

"Well, I found B here when he was still relatively new to magic, even though he's not that far along now." The Blacksmith said, though it wasn't anything condescending, just factual. "I offered to help him a little, and gave him some cash to help him start out. As much as he rejected my help, I forced him to take it anyway, and ever since then, I've just seen him around a lot. We hung around each other for a while, until eventually... well. It just sorta happened."

"What about you?" Bascht asked from behind his mask. Gerik had to wonder if he took that off while sleeping or showering-- and laughed a little internally at the thoughts of wearing that 24/7. He was probably really pale, considering he was almost fully covered."No one special in your life, male or female?"

Gerik shook his head. "Ever since I can remember, I have lived inside the Prontera Church. As soon as I was old enough, I started to do work around the church, and paid rent for my sleeping quarters. Before that, my parents and I lived in Alberta. It's hard to get anyone special when you're working day and night, and are poor. People are... oddly materialistic at times. It's hard to find the ones that aren't."

"Ah, keep at it, you'll find one. But that aside, you're from Alberta? So this is going home for you, then! You should have said something earlier, I'd let you prepare a letter for your parents or something." The Blacksmith said, before thinking. Gerik winced a little at the words, and he raised an eyebrow. "Er, sorry? Not good relation with the parents?"

"They... died. A long time ago. Protecting me from monsters summoned from a Dead Branch." He mumbled, before he laughed sourly. "Ironic, isn't it? The people that are close to me seem to be having to die to protect me. I hate feeling useless-- so I want to become stronger. So people can rely on me."

There was a slight silence as they walked, the Mage adjusting his mask, and finally speaking. "Dead Branch? Was it by cloaked figures in yellow and brown, by chance? Skull and crossed branches as a logo?" The three of them stopped walking, and Gerik stared, nodding silently. He held a look of utter stupefaction on his face. "As I thought. it's unfortunate, but your parents fell to the hands of the Deadly Botany Faction."

"The... Deadly Botany Faction?" Gerik asked. The name sounded incredibly stupid. "What on earth, or better yet, who on earth are they? And what the hell are they doing just cracking Dead Branches everywhere?"

"Deadly Botany Faction. More like Dead Branch F***ers if you ask me." D said, with a scowl. "They're just a gang of thugs. Go around and attack the world at large with massive amounts of branches. It's random, really, just like their attacks. They might spawn a ton of incredibly strong monsters, or like that one time they spawned a ton of Geographers, and it was just like weeding. They've nothing better to do really, than harass the general populace."

"They're comprised of a bunch of wisened, veteran adventurers. So not only are they able to defeat the monsters they summon if they're bored, but they're hard to pin down themselves, as well as capable of fighting off many assaults on them. That, and they're nomadic. In constant motion. You never know where they are, really, until the Kafra make a worldwide announcement of an attack. It's pathetic." Bascht added, as they crossed the bridge into Izlude.

"A group... that's just out to wreak havoc? The same group that..." Gerik began to think. He stopped as they headed over the bridge, and his two acquain-- no, his two friends, stopped and looked back at him. "Is something wrong?" D asked, and Gerik just shook his head. "I know it's a lot to take in but--"

"No, sorry." Gerik quickly cut in. The Blacksmith blinked, and he could tell the mage was staring at him too. But now that he knew this... there would be some information to get once they were in Alberta. "Let's just get a ship, and get ready. It's almost night-time. No ships will sail at night, we'll have to wait until morning." The other two just nodded, and continued inside.

"Vengeance? No, not vengeance. It's just... wrong. I can't let this keep going. Other people... will end up like me."

[Zerrif]

"Full too?" Gerik said, frustratedly. D just nodded, stepping out of another small, yet homely looking inn. Izlude wasn't by any means a large city, and all the inns being full didn't exactly leave much place to go. "Bah, it was nearly a day's walk from Prontera! If we went back now, we'd have to leave within an hour or so just to make it back within daylight!"

"Sorreh." The Blacksmith replied, looking over at the Bascht. The Mage still hadn't taken off his mask, sitting on the cart idly petting his lunatic. "But hey, I know a couple guys out here. Not an inn, but I might be able to get us something. Y'mind keeping an eye on him?" D asked, motioning his head over to the mage.

"It's not like we have much of a choice, do we? Let's just hope that it pulls through." The acolyte replied. If he had trained just a little more, he might have learned how to use Blue Gemstones to make a Warp Portal, but as it stood now he had other things to focus on, or so he deemed appropriate. Bascht just looked up at him as the Blacksmith walked off. "Right?"

"Yeah. It's getting dark." Came the muffled Mage's voice, from behind the smiling mask. Gerik looked up. The sky was a deep purple, nearing the black void of night. Starts would soon be coming out, matting the sky with gleaming lights, and a breeze washed over Izlude. Being a port city, it was generally cooler than Prontera during the spring and summer seasons-- he was glad the Acolyte robes were warmer than usual adventuring fare.

His eyes caught a glint, however, in the corner of his vision. He stared over, seeing only empty, and closed down vendor's carts. He knew his mind wasn't playing tricks on him-- it was far too dark to be doing so. He drew slightly closer to the cart, before he saw it again. He was sure of it, this time!

"Hey I'm... gonna be over there real quick." Gerik said, albeit a little shakily. He made his way over to the stalls, not even waiting to see if the Mage would stop him-- though he doubted he would. He seemed stoic and kept, but he knew that Bascht was tired from the walk. His slump on the various bags and goods that D always carted around told him so. "Hello? Is someone around here?" He called out, walking into a small clearing.

He was surrounded by carts, all closed. Another eerie, chilling wind blew over and he shivered, holding onto his arms and rubbing them frantically. His legs suddenly felt warm and he stared down to see a Nine Tail wrapped around his legs, nuzzling his left knee contentedly. Since when did they venture this far into a town? And since when did they not attack on sight?

His questions made him unaware of the presence behind him, arms suddenly around his shoulders. He jumped, and yelped, before he heard some sort of laughter behind him. More than a giggle, it seemed childish-- a laughter of pure amusement, taking delight in his fright. "Hee hee~ Sorry to have disturbed you! My little friend there seems to like you, though, and I've been looking around for him all night! Thanks for finding him, kon."

Gerik blinked, and suddenly pushed away from the figure behind him, tripping over the Nine Tail. He fell to the ground unceremoniously, turning around to stare at someone who seemed to blend in the dark just naturally. He had katars attached to his hands, and he had an unruly, brown mop of hair, held down by a hat that seemed to be shaped like a Nine Tail itself. "Sorry, kon! Hee hee, I keep forgetting it's not nice to scare people from behind. But it's just too funny!"

"... Funny. Right." Gerik mumbled, from his prone position. "Er... I guess you're welcome for finding your pet?" He asked, sitting up. The Nine Tail made its way over to him and nuzzled at his hand, nipping it greedily. He figured the beast just wanted some attention, and he started to pet it-- finding it comfortably warm. "What's his name?"

"Amoren!" The figure said, offering a hand, with the katar turned round so it wasn't pointed at him. "My name's Konkon. Just your friendly neighbourhood Assassin. Well... I guess that's a lie, kon. Not so friendly, and this isn't my neighbourhood." The Assassin giggled again, making the Acolyte blink. Was this guy for real? "Anyway, I heard you guys were looking for a room? I got a room, with a couple spare beds, if you guys wanna pay me for them."

Right, money. He did train up as a thief, after all. It wasn't any surprise that he'd be after that. "Let me ask the others, er... Konkon. Unique name, by the way. I'm Gerik." The Acolyte said, taking the hand as he was lifted to his feet rather easily. He just made his way out from the stalls, the Nine Tail running past him, at the cart.

The first thing that happened, was that the Lunatic in Bascht's lap saw the incoming kitsune, and quickly hopped up onto his head. The second was a charged Frost Diver, fired right at the tamed vulpine. What happened next was a blur. Gerik felt a rush of wind surge from behind him, and immediately Konkon was on the Mage, a katar to his neck.

"How DARE you hit my poor Amoren! You should pay for that! Now he's frozen solid! Don't you know Nine Tails hate the cold? You're cruel! A big meany!" Konkon started to shout, pressing his katar closer to the now-exposed, pale neck. Bascht was using both hands to keep the katar just away from his skin, and Gerik blinked.

"H-He was going to eat my Lunatic! Maybe you should keep your pets on a tighter leash, or not be such a reckless owner!" Bascht shouted back, scoldingly. That only made the Assassin pinning him onto the cart growl, like a real Nine Tail would. Jeez, there was a "liking of foxes", and then an unhealthy obsession with them. "He ain't dead, anyway. And he'll unfreeze in a few seconds-- so if you don't mind--"

"I DO MIND!" The Assassin said defiantly. By this point, Gerik had come to his senses, and was attempting to pry him off, only being rewarded with a quick backhand. "You apologize, and you take that back! Amoren is a nice fox! He wouldn't hurt a fly, unless the fly was annoying him! You're--"

"MAMMONITE!" Came a cry from the side. The Assassin looked over to see where it came from, only getting a glimpse of a giant sack of zeny, before it smacked him right in the face. He went flying off of the mage, though he righted himself in the air, and landed on his feet. He stretched out his hands, and said a little "Ta da~", as if showing he was okay. "You okay, B? He didn't hurt you, did he?" The Blacksmith asked, carefully sitting the Mage upright. The mask was adjusted, and a silent nod was given, before D looked up, and glared. "Just who the hell do you think you are--"

"SILENCE!" Gerik shouted, far louder than he even seemed to realize. Everyone stared in his direction, and at that point, the frozen Nine Tail's icy prison shattered, and the vulpine was free. It quickly made it's way over to Gerik's legs, making it's way under his robes, curling around his feet. "H-H-Hey!" He stammered, suddenly losing his vigour from earlier, before he fished out the Nine Tail, cradling him warmly in his arms. "A-As I was saying... this Assassin, Konkon, was offering us some spare beds he had in his inn room."

"YEAH! I'm the good guy here, so stop attacking me!" The Assassin said, striding up to Gerik's side-- though the Acolyte took a firm step away from him to accentuate. "But I don't wanna let meanies in my room. Especially not ones that attack my poor Amoren! You can't stay!"

"That's fine." D replied, coldly. "I asked around with my friends, Gerik, and there was only one spare bed I could get. If you want we could just meet here in the morning again? Sorry I couldn't do any better-- but it seems we weren't welcome anyway." The Blacksmith's tone had a biting venom to it, though the reasons were obvious to the Acolyte.

Gerik heaved a sigh, before nodding. "Yeah, that's fine. You two erm..." He thought about it for a moment. 'Have fun' didn't exactly seem like the best phrase he could use at this point. "I'll see you both in the morning."

The Blacksmith cast him a worried glance, before he just heaved up the cart, and left without a word. Gerik sighed again, and turned to the Assassin, who quickly scooped up his pet, and nosed at it softly. Gerik blinked at the sight-- this Konkon really was quite the character. He was either some cursed child stuck in an adult's body, or just extremely... well, childish. "Well then. Shall we?" He asked, breaking the Assassin out of his nuzzling. Konkon just nodded, a big smile on his face-- as if nothing that had just transpired had really happened.

"Sure! This'll be fun!" Konkon said, as he spun around on his heel, and started to walk towards the inn that he had a room in. Gerik groaned.

"That wouldn't be quite how I put it..."

[Zerrif]

"So so so! You gotta tell me--" Konkon started, once they had entered his inn room. Gerik quickly took the room in, and glared. Konkon had said there were extra beds, but there was only one; albeit large enough to have probably fit all four of them. He grit his teeth, clenching a fist. As the Assassin turned around to face him, he let out an outcry and tackled him to the bed. His mace was soon raised above Konkon's horrified eyes. "Holy-- what the hell--"

"First off, you don't backhand me. I'm not someone you look down upon like that. Second of all, you don't attack my party. You listen to reason. Bascht was right. You should have taken better care of Amoren. First you lost him and look at him now-- because you were reckless he's not in a very good state. Add to that you lied about the beds. So while I'm thankful I've got a roof over my head, you have to grow up!"

Gerik took a breath after his sermon, before he let up on the Assassin. He didn't really know what came over him. He hadn't felt the sting on his cheek until he'd entered the warm confines of the inn, and after everything had replayed in his mind. The Nine Tail nipped at his sides, but not painfully-- more grabbing his attention. Gerik blinked and sat up, the Assassin still staring up.

"... I thought we were friends." He mumbled. Gerik groaned heavily. He got off the bed, taking off his outer robes, revealing that he wore a simple cloth shirt, and trousers underneath. "I thought--" Konkon kept mumbling, just laying back on the bed. Gerik sighed, and clapped a hand to his face.

"Look. I'm sorry about the outburst. But I'm tired now, and I'm leaving early anyway. I'm just going to get some sleep, and leave in the morning. You'll barely know I'm here." Gerik mumbled, before he climbed into the bed and just took a side. There was probably enough room for Konkon to lay out horizontally if he wanted to, but the Assassin just crawled up onto the bed, still dressed in all his gear. He stared over, watching Amoren curl up right against the small of the Acolyte's back.

Grumpily, he reached over and tugged the vulpine, snuggling him in a tight embrace. He hated going to sleep angry. But he hated the feeling of knowing he was wrong more.

---

Gerik woke softly, the first few trails of light blazing through a small opening in the curtains. He rolled out of bed silently, standing up. He wasn't really one to sleep all that heavily, and he felt like he'd slept in, considering he'd have to wake up earlier to clean the church. He stared over at the Assassin, who was curled up in a fetal position. A strange feeling washed over the Acolyte-- like he was just watching a child sleep, and didn't want to disturb it.

Child. That's all he could really say about Konkon. The man was... not a man. He was just childish. Shaking his head, he quickly slipped on his outer robe, and crept out of the room, only making a small click when the catch on the door slipped into where it was meant to go.

He made his way out of the inn, greeting a sleep caretaker, and heading outside. He was surprised to see that the Blacksmith and Mage were already waiting outside, although Bascht was sitting near the rear of the cart, curled up against a bag. Though it wouldn't have been evident at first sight because of the mask, the Mage was still asleep. "Early for him?" Gerik asked, and D just smiled, yawning and stretching before carefully lifting up the cart, so the Mage wasn't stirred.

"I'm surprised you survived the night with your sanity intact." The Blacksmith replied, as they slowly walked towards the docks. One of the boats would take them to Alberta, but they had to find it first. The sun was rising over the waters, giving them a lucid glow. Gerik smiled at the sight, committing it to memory-- adventuring was only going to show him a lot of dazzling sights.

"Don't remind me. I kind of... lost myself, last night. I exploded. I just hope that--" He started, before something bumped into his leg. He stared behind him to see the familiar Nine Tail on the ground, headbutting his leg. "Huh? Amoren? It's good to see you better but you should go back--" Gerik started, before the kitsune just started circling him, yipping lightly.

"Feh, to be honest, seems like he likes you. And he's better off with you than that kook, if I say so myself." D replied, before he just heaved up the cart again, walking off. "Besides, he's kinda cute anyway. I'm sure under a better owner, he'll be far more disciplined. Y'know, the whole "monkey-see-monkey-do" ethic."

Gerik shrugged. "I don't even know what it'll eat. I don't know the first thing about taking care of these." He stared down at the Nine Tail, as it yipped at him again, before running in circles. He sighed, and just continued on after the Blacksmith, the vulpine in tow. "Then again, we're heading to Payon. I'm sure that someone will know something about Nine Tail, right? All I know is that they're... a tricky demon. Or something. They're made for mischief. So I don't know what having one as a pet is going to imply."

"At any rate," D said, as he pointed to a small boat. It was a humble craft, with a young sailor sitting on the railing, looking quite bored. "That's our guy. Found him yesterday." The two approached the sailor, who enthusiastically beckoned them on. Before Gerik could ask any questions, the sails were let down, and they were on the open waters.

---

"Mruh..." Bascht mumbled, once they were a ways from Izlude. The shore line was barely visible now on the horizon, glowing a soft amber of morning. "D..." He whined, as the Blacksmith looked over from where he'd been sitting against the mast. "You didn't wake me up again..." There was a tone of anger in his voice, but it was so clouded with that tiredness from having just woken up, that it was barely audible.

"Sorry hon." The Blacksmith replied, lifting the Mage from the cart where he'd been left. "You looked too peaceful to wake. All things considered you needed your sleep." The Blacksmith's mouth turned up in a wicked looking grin, and the Mage just patted down his robes.

"Hey, you two, you gotta see this! It's pretty awesome." Gerik called from above, where the wheel was. The two quickly ascended to the upper level, finding the Acolyte staring off the stern of the small ship. The Nine Tail that he'd recently "acquired" was curled up in a small circle by his feet. The land that they were leaving seemed to have an orange-yellow glow from the sun as it was behind them. Bascht stepped up to the railing, D soon behind him, placing a hand on the Mage's shoulder.

"That's beautiful." Bascht said, now sounding fully awake. Gerik grinned.

"And on the other side..." He said, pointing to the fore. They all turned to stare over the bow, seeing the sun rising just above another horizon, the docks of Alberta glowing as well-- though it was more of a bright yellow. "Alberta always ends up really bright, because it's so pristine white."

"Yeah, that's right. I remember doing my first few Merchant duties around there, and noticing that." D added, as he spun the Mage in front of him, leaning back on the railing, and leaning the smaller one against him.

"If y'think that's beautiful, wait till you guys get to Payon. You can climb some of the hills located there, and see over the surrounding forests. It's a damn nice sight." Their sailor said, though he didn't take his eyes off of where he was going. Gerik grinned, as the fox at his feet decided to stir, and get on it's hind legs, pawing at his knee.

"Aah!" Bascht squeaked, as D held him close. "When did--" He started, before Gerik just laughed, and reached down, picking up the fox into his arms. "You stole it from that Assassin?"

"What? No, it just decided to follow us." Gerik said. "Ask D." The Blacksmith confirmed this with a nod of his head, resting his chin just behind the sunflower hat that the mage wore. "Though I don't know what he eats, and he's probably hungry by now."

"That's easy. Nine Tail love eating Tofu." Bascht said, matter-of-factly. "I remember from studies at the Mage Guild. They're beings of great magic and hidden wonder, so they were a case study that we had to do. I found it funny that they like Tofu of all things-- but then again, "A beast from the east must like the food from there, right?"

"Tofu...?" Gerik asked, having never heard of it before. He blinked a little, as the small fox decided that against it's hunger, it would try and sleep some more to fight it off, curling up in his arms some more. "I hope we can find some in Payon, then."

"Speaking of--" D said, as he stared at the slowly closing in docks of Alberta. "I might have to leave Payon before you guys are finished with the dungeon. Got a message that I might have to go back to Einbroch for some other smithy-duties. But don't rush because of me, I'll meet you again. You know how to reach me, B." He said, as the Mage looked up before nodding solemnly.

"I've also got a friend to visit in Alberta, if we don't mind." Gerik said. "I just remembered he'll probably be around there this time of year, and I want to see if he'll come along. Maybe I'm just too used to the comforting click-clack of your cart wheels to go without one." Gerik said, as the Blacksmith grinned at him.

"By all means." Bascht replied, adjusting his mask. "Though, if you don't mind, I'm going back to sleep. And I'll head inside this time, instead of being dumped into a cart." Gerik could tell by now that the Mage probably had some wicked grin, as the Blacksmith shifted a little uncomfortably, scratching the back of his head. The Mage took a step, before he looked over his shoulder at the smith.

"Ahaha... I guess that means I'm taking a nap too." D said, blushing slightly. "Anyway, it won't be long, B. I don't mind the stopover either." He said, before he was tugged down to the hold. Gerik just chuckled lowly to himself, before he let out a slight sigh, slumping against the railing as he pet the fox in his arms.

"Mm. Yeah, it's tough." The sailor said. Gerik looked up, with an eyebrow raised. "To know that you travel with people close to you, but they're closer with each other? Makes you feel more alone. Then again, I'm probably just picking at an old wound." He said. Gerik blinked.

"I don't follow. I'm a man of the cloth. I haven't really focused on a relationship as such. I thought--" He started. What did he think? He had read the bibles and scriptures. Priests were supposed to be immaculate. Men of cloth, not flesh; of belief, not of practice. But then again those two...

"Time can change." The sailor said. Gerik's thoughts were snapped back to the priest. "Besides, two of my very best friends got married. Both Priestesses. Good girls." Gerik's jaw dropped slightly. Priestess...es? Multiple? How did the church ever-- "The road of the old can be used as a conduit for the change of the new. That's what one told me. You can still be devout, and yet--"

"Please, stop." Gerik said. The sailor just bit his lip, and shut up. The Acolyte felt conflicted, inside. Now that he was thinking about it, there was that void there where-- he just tightened his grip on the fox a little, slumping a little more. Alberta couldn't have felt any further away.

[Zerrif]

"Get your fresh fish right here! Cheaper than that cheapskate by the boat, and better quality too! Bass, Salmon, Angels, I got them all, come one come all!" Rang a voice standing on the Alberta docks. A tall, muscled merchant, with long green hair tied back in a ponytail that reached down to just above the small of his back, stood in front of a cart that seemed to be slightly overloaded with fish. People were crowding around him, and he was quickly replacing fish with bags of zeny.

"Hey! You! One, you're ruining my business, and two, there's a bloody ship coming-- can't you see it? Get off of the dock you moron!" Shouted a fisherman, as the crowd soon dispersed. The Merchant just smiled, and hefted up his cart, which was now full of zeny.

"That's what you get for messing with Muarim the Merchant." He replied back, before he dashed off, carting his newly-made money off to a banker for safe keeping. He snickered to himself as he ran. "I knew getting into fishing would be lucrative. Just gotta undercut a slight bit, but make enough for bait, and you're set!" He looked over his shoulder to see a meagre vessel pulling into port, and just shrugged, continuing west of the docks.

---

"Finally, Alberta!" D said, thankfully. The last bit of the ride had been rather tumultuous for the smith's stomach, and he'd been glad to have his feet on even ground, rather than having to deal with his final few retches over the railing of the ship. The Mage took a step beside him, and giggled, arms wrapped around him lightly rubbing his stomach.

"Mm... Well, don't you have those receipts to turn in? Go ahead, we'll go find Gerik's friend." He said. Gerik blinked at the Mage's demeanour. It was far different from the grumpy, just-woken-up flower that he had been no more than an hour earlier. And he was hardly ever this happy. "Right, Gerik?"

"Huh? Yeah." He said, with a nod, as D just nodded, turning around and ruffling the flower-mage's hair. He was quickly gone, beelining for the Merchant's Guild, or perhaps a private place to let his stomach finish what it had started. "Hey B--" Gerik was about to speak, when a loud clacking of wheels on the Albertan cobblestone made him look up.

"Hey! You guys need any fi--" Came a voice, pulling the cart. The Merchant in question skidded to a halt, grinning as he saw them both. "Little boy Gerik? You're an acolyte now?" He asked. "Why, it was only a year or so ago that I saw you still sweeping up those dusty church halls! How're you doing?"

"Hah. He always did have a great sense of timing." "Bascht, this is my good friend, Muarim. He's a travelling Merchant. He carts around all sorts of things into the deepest dungeons, incase any adventuring parties need some emergency supplies." The Acolyte explained. The Mage nodded his head, and the Merchant let his cart thump onto the ground.

"That's right. Muarim's Moving Merchandise-- if you need it, I'll bring it." He said, offering a hand; though the Mage didn't shake it. He just dusted it off on his pants, and smiled, reaching for a wide-brimmed hat, setting it on his head. "So how're the old Fathers doing? Still working you to the bone for minimum wage?"

Bascht blinked. It was like these two were childhood friends. They were soon lost in a friendly banter, and he just moved to the side, sitting on a barrel with Pillow on his lap. Amoren soon padded up and just curled into a ball beside his feet, not acting up at all. The thing was cute, when it wasn't hungry.

"Oh, hey, now that you're an Acolyte, you can supply me with Holy Water! I'll pay handsomely." The Merchant said, before he turned around rummaging in his cart. Gerik just laughed. "Yeah, I've been meaning to go back to the church to stock up, but the Mistress and Master have been keeping me busy. But I always get time off around now to start vending again. You sly dog, you knew I'd be here, didn't you?" The Acolyte's face beamed.

"Mis-- oh right. How's that working out?" Gerik asked. The green-haired Merchant just shrugged. "Well in any case, get me some bottles, and I'll make them while we wait for our third to come back from delivering receipts. We're heading to Payon, see. Going to investigate the dungeon-- I heard the undead are in higher numbers than before."

"Huh? Oh! Yeah! I heard about that too. In fact--" The Merchant suddenly had a ponderous look about him. "You supplied at all for going down there? I just stocked my cart up, and I've got nothin' else to do, really. Want me to come along? I know you said you've already got a third but the more the merrier, right? I'll even discount you huge if you need to use my supplies."

Gerik laughed nervously. Muarim was indeed a hardy fellow and a good friend, but money was at the forefront of his mind at some points. "Well the third isn't accompanying us into the dungeon, just on the way to Payon. It's just me and Bascht over there." Gerik said, turning his head. Muarim turned his as well, before he spotted the fox on the ground.

"He~ey, that's a Nine Tail! Tame too! That's really rare. He for sale?" Muarim asked. Gerik couldn't help but laugh, and shake his head. "Shame. Well hey, I just bought some cheap Tofu from this guy-- he needed cash to go to Moscovia and sold me a boatload. You need any?"

"Yeah. Timing is right. And now..." Gerik thought. "How much?" He asked, almost by reflex. The Merchant waved a hand.

"Nah, pet food is free. Can't have the world's friendlies going hungry, right? That'll just make em angry, and resent us. No need for hate in this world." Muarim said, before he started rummaging in his cart again. He pulled out a hefty bag, at least the side of Gerik's head, and opened in. Within were individually wrapped cubes of the soybean paste. There had to be at least a hundred, maybe two pieces in that bag.

"Really?" Gerik asked. He was even more astonished to see the Merchant nod. "Thank you, Muarim. This will be a big help." He said, before he graciously took the bag. He snapped at the fox, waking it from its slumber. He waved a cube of the tofu around, and before he knew it the vulpine was chewing on his fingers, amicably, not hungrily. "Hehe. You've saved me yet again, haven't you Muar?"

"Yeah, s'pose I have. Well, if we're just waiting for your friend, I'm gonna get some stuff just for the Payon Dungeon, if you don't mind. I'll meet you guys by the Alberta exit." He said, as he waved at the Mage, receiving another silent nod. He shivered a little, before he turned and adjusted his hat, carting off.

"What did you mean, saved you?" Bascht asked, as Gerik came back to the barrels, sitting on a nearby one. The vulpine was at his heels, and he dropped another cube of tofu, before shaking his head.

"No more. You'll get fat." He said, though the Nine Tail didn't really seem to care. He looked up at the Mage, smiling. "What did I mean? Well... I suppose there's no harm in telling."

---

When I was a young boy at the church, I was first in charge of very small duties. Dusting, sweeping, arranging pillows and such for kneelers. Nothing important or nothing that could potentially ruin a service, you know? But as I grew older, I became more responsible-- though a side of me was still childish to the end.

I remember it was an extremely hot, summer day. The kind of heat where it's not just hot, but it's so muggy you can barely breathe. It feels like you're walking through molasses. It was my first day aiding in altar service-- though I wasn't allowed to properly altar serve during a service because I wasn't an acolyte, I did help with setting up, and replacing objects.

It was after, what I had thought was, the last service of the day. I was bringing back the chalice of holy water to the back chambers, when I was passing by a window. Water had never glinted to beautifully before, and I realized just how parched my throat was. I even remember my very thoughts. "It's just blessed water, right? It's still water."

Before I knew it, I had ducked into a small alcove, and I was drinking the water. Footsteps rang down the hall, and so I quickly shut the chalice, which barely contained more than a few sips. One of the Father's found me, and assumed I was just in there for shade. Though, he was looking for the chalice, since they were going to hold one last service for the day, to make up for lacklustre attendance due to the heat.

I panicked. He walked off and I looked inside the chalice again. The water inside looked so meagre, I felt sick to my stomach. I was rushing about the church when Muarim entered, being one to attend the alter ceremonies. He noticed my plight, and in my panic I explained to him what was wrong.

"Hm. Well it's your lucky day that I've got a fresh chalice of Holy Water from the Saint Capitolina Abbey. Looks exactly like that one." He pointed out to me. He showed me the chalice from the cart, and I opened the lid. Dear god, he charged me that water's weight in Zeny, but it saved me.

---

"So he basically saved you from getting in trouble with the priests, huh?" Bascht asked, dangling his legs from where he was sitting. Gerik chuckled.

"Not fully. The priests knew that I'd switched the chalices-- apparently the Saint Capitolina Abbey chalices had a special marking on their lids. I hadn't noticed it. But I was forgiven, and even treated to a cone of Ice Cream by Father Bamph. But ever since then, I'd noticed Muarim attending scattered services-- not always around. I began to talk to him, and I learned of what he did."

The Mage shifted his Lunatic onto his shoulder, where the ball of fluff decided to puff up for a little, before nestling into his neck. "I see. He sounds like a good fellow, if he was willing to do that for you in a time of need."

Gerik laughed raucously again. "Maybe. Or maybe he was after my zeny. I don't know, but I'd like to believe that he is a good fellow. What about you? Any friends from the academy?" Gerik asked. He watched as the Mage visibly stiffened-- the Lunatic on his shoulder even jostled slightly at the motion. "I'm sorry, did I--"

"No--" Bascht started, before he stood up. "D's back." He said, causing Gerik to look over his shoulder. The Blacksmith had a smile on his face, walking back towards the two.

"Ready to go, then? I figure if we leave now, we should make it to Payon before dark." He asked. Gerik stood as well, nodding.

"Even shorter than that." He added. D blinked at him. "I used to live in Alberta, remember? I know shortcuts through the forest. We won't have to leave all that early. I've just one more stop to make, anyway."

"I thought we had only come to meet your friend." Bascht said. Gerik winced a little at the tone of the last word, but the Blacksmith didn't seem to notice it.

"Well... while we're here, I wanted to pick a few things up from my house. I haven't been in a couple years, and I need to disturb the dust a little."

"You have a house here, but you lived in the Pronteran Church?" The Blacksmith asked. Gerik rubbed the back of his elbow, before he froze. Horror filled his eyes, and he started to shake, the Nine Tail at his feet headbutting his leg as if to break him out of whatever trance he was in. D hurriedly rushed over, and sharply slapped the Acolyte, making him blink and stare up. "Sorry about hitting you-- I didn't know-- Is everything okay?"

"... Memories." Gerik mumbled, before he stared down the road. The Blacksmith just nodded. "I just need to get a few things from there, and then we'll leave."

"Understood." Bascht said from behind the smith. "Well then, shall we? Best not to linger upon places like this."

Gerik just nodded, though it was empty.

---

"Mama! Mama look! I bought this for you!"

"Cretin! How dare you! We don't have the money for this and you--"

A slap. The crack echoed in the room. Beads fell to the ground, clattering like little thunderous drops everywhere.

"I just... I thought it'd look pretty..."

"Tell your father. Now we have to figure out what to do with our money this month."

Crying. Feet running upstairs. A sigh.

"I had bought it for you... since the clothes you always wore looked so dirty..." Gerik mumbled. The room was barely lit, wooden boards over the windows letting only slivers of light in. It was dusty too, he felt like his sinuses had just backed up the moment he'd opened the door.

In all truth, he was surprised the place still stood, and that his key still worked. He was here, now, knelt beside his mother's night-table, holding a rosary in his hands. He'd tried to gather up the scattered beads after it had been smacked out of his hands and fallen, but he was missing four for his last decade. Still, he wrapped it intricately around his arm, the cross just dangling on his wrist.

"I'm sorry I was so stupid then. You kept buying me the nice clothes, the nice food, the things I wanted. I just wanted to pay back your kindness..."

"I realize, however, I wasn't meant to pay it back, but to show that upon others. I won't let you down."

[Zerrif]

"Sorry about that." Gerik said, stepping out of the house. From the outside it didn't look dilapidated, or abandoned, just very quiet. If it weren't for the boarded windows outside the modest, alabaster white Albertan home, it could have easily been mistaken for a quiet family, or perhaps an old couple that didn't really mingle with the world. It was smaller than the other houses on the street by far, but that didn't take away from it's homeliness.

"That's alright. Got everything?" D asked, noting the cross that was wrapped around Gerik's arm. "You should get a glove of sorts, so that doesn't bite into your skin. B, do you have an extra one?" The Blacksmith asked. The Mage was looking aside, and he snapped out of his reverie, just rummaging in his robe. He pulled out a worn, plain brown leather glove, and handed it to the Acolyte.

"Just the one, sorry. It's said to help your dexterity-- but I never really understood enchantments all that well." The Mage said simply, as Gerik took the apparently, right handed glove. He put it on, and rewrapped the rosary, finding that it did feel more comfortable upon the glove. "So this is--"

"Yeah. I used to live here, though I was only here for a few years before we moved to Prontera, and the whole thing with the Dead Branches happened." He said, as he led them out of Alberta. His companions just nodded, not really pressing the matter-- they'd found out early on that Gerik would reveal what he wanted when he so chose. "Anyway, I'm sure we left Muarim waiting, the poor guy."

"Yeah! Poor me!" Came a cry, as they had walked past the Kafra stall. The Merchant quickly bowed a "thank you" at the Kafra Lady, who returned it in kind, and heaved a new cart off to the group. It was full of various dividers, potions, arrows, and even equipment, as well as ores and other miscellany. "We all set?"

"That's... a lot of stuff." Bascht said, coldly. "Most of which we can't use." Muarim looked over and while Gerik could feel tingles run up his spine out of possible resent, or a verbal attack, the green-haired Merchant just laughed it off.

"Maybe so, but y'never know what we'll need, right? It's always best to go in prepared, rather than find out you need something later. That's my motto. Besides, if the problem is as bad as it seems, we're not the only ones going in there. My Mistr-- er..." He stopped mid sentence, blushing and fiddling with his ponytail. "I was taught that we should always help others. Common courtesy. There's nothing wrong with charging for a little courtesy, is there?"

Gerik smiled. "In any case, let's go. Payon is a long walk through the forest, and the longer we wait, the more creatures that will arise."

---

"So, they're moving out finally? Good. Send in the Gamma Squad."

"Gamma? But they're too inexperienced with--"

"Exactly. We'll be testing both sides at once."

"You know, I never really understood how you thought."

"You were never meant to. Now, will you hurry up, and just go give the orders?"

"Yes ma'am!"

---

"We've been here before." Bascht said, pointing at a small indentation in the ground. "That's where D's cart bumped slightly, and we had to pick stuff up."

Everyone stared at the rather large indentation in the ground, and Muarim sighed. "Man, once you get out of Alberta it's so hard to keep your bearings! I mean, I know we're supposed to be going northwest from the city, but I can't tell where northwest is."

"So much for the traveling Merchant. He gets lost in his own backyard." Bascht muttered. Gerik blinked. Why was he being so overly cold to Muarim? Was it because of what he said earlier?

He watched as a visible twinge in Muarim's face appeared, and before anything could happen, he raised his hands. "Well, I'm rather tired. Let's have a rest, and come up with a plan. No use wandering in circles in this forest, right?" He asked. D, who had noted the risen tension, quickly nodded, and set down his cart, starting to rummage for camping gear.

"Yeah well, I'm going to scout ahead just a little." Muarim said, bitterly. Gerik had an urge to stop him, but the Merchant was already storming off. Another sigh came from the Acolyte, as D was expertly setting up a camp. The sun was still going to be in the sky for a few more hours, but under the foliage of all the trees, the forest was already rather dark, and it was best for Muarim to have a beacon to come back to.

"Bascht, what's gotten into you?" Gerik asked, looking over at the Mage once Muarim was far out of earshot. He was greeted back by that smiling mask-- though beneath he could feel a piercing gaze directed right at him, or even through him. "I'm sorry if I pricked a nerve earlier, but Muarim is a good friend of--"

"Mine." Bascht interjected. Gerik's jaw dropped slightly, and the Blacksmith looked up. "You're mine." Gerik fought back an urge to groan. Was this seriously what was wrong? He was being... territorial? Even Amoren wasn't this bad-- the fox would just lazily follow along, and that was it.

"Listen, Bascht--" Gerik started, wondering how to put this. "I am your friend. Just as much as I am Muarim's, or D's. It's--" A tugging on his arm stopped him, and he caught the Blacksmith out of the corner of his eye, making a motion to keep quiet. His mind reeled, and started to ache as he began to wonder just what the hell was going on.

"B, love, could you be a darlin' and watch my cart? Gerik, can I ask you to help get some firewood with me?" D quickly shot forth. At this point, Gerik knew something was up. The well-built smith didn't need help carrying much, especially firewood-- he heaved around a cart that probably weighed a whole stump and more. Nevertheless, he nodded, and got up, dusting off his robes. The Mage didn't do anything but wave his hand, and D smiled, leaning over and nosing at the mask, before he got up.

---

"What's going on, D?" Gerik asked, once they were in the trees. The Blacksmith heaved up his axe, chopping swiftly into some overhead branches, for tinder. "Why is Bascht--"

"He... didn't have many friends, growing up. He was sort of ostracized." D explained, letting out a grunt as he chopped through a particularly thick branch. Gerik ducked as the Blacksmith quickly reached up and caught it, before it could fall on them. Needed his help indeed-- how did Bascht actually believe him? "In fact, it was so bad that things were taken away from him. He clung to what he knew was his because he was afraid it would be taken away. I mean, I can't imagine having everything I ever cared for taken away because-- nevermind. I'm getting into too much."

Gerik picked up some of the branches, and D grinned. "I see. I mean, I was surprised that he was acting that way. I like to believe that travelling with you guys, even for the short while we have, that I know him better than that. It was very... unlike him."

"No, it really is, you're right." The smith said, hefting his axe over his shoulder, and an armful of wood in the other. "But that just means he really thinks of you as a friend. I mean if it were me..." He trailed off, biting his lip as if he'd said more than he should have.

"Just what are you to him, D?" Gerik asked. "I mean, are you two d--"

"D!!!!!" Came a cry from back at the campsite. Very much like Bascht's voice. Both of them, in an instant, dropped the firewood they were holding, and started to run back. Gerik figured he'd have to get his answer later.

---

"MAMMONITE!" Muarim cried out, hefting his Battle Axe over his head, before it came crashing down through the air. It cleaved it's way cleanly through his target, a Stem Worm, the God of Zeny appearing and smiting the living plant with his large bag of coin. He hopped back to regroup, as a defensive Fire Wall was quickly placed where he'd been standing.

"What's going on?" Gerik cried out, as he came back into view of everyone else. Muarim and Bascht stood surrounded by Stem Worms, and Roween-- with a particularly fearsome looking Galion standing on the other side. "What in the world-- they don't belong anywhere near Payon or Alberta! What are they doing here?" He said, confused, as he quickly drew his shield, which he attached to his back, and his mace from his belt.

"Yes... what indeed?" A rather sultry, yet bilious voice said from behind the Galion. A woman, floating along the ground, came up beside the Galion. Dressed in tan yellow, and dark brown...

"DBF! What the hell are you doing here?" D shouted, quickly, jumping in front of the mage. B was completely composed, though he was on his guard, constantly turning to look at everyone, and everything around him. "Honestly, go get something better to do with your lives! Stop harassing regular adventurers like us!"

"Harass? Oh, anything but my dear smith you see... today I'm here with a purpose."

[Zerrif]

"Gerik, have I ever told you that all things perhaps, happen for a reason? There is no way to be sure, but what if things were destined by the Gods?"

"Father Brahms, surely there's some freedom. I can't imagine that nothing is predestined, but I also can't imagine that our actions and choices to affect what the Gods do, as well. I think creation, and life, is a work-in-progress. The Gods give us challenges, trials, tribulations, things to face. Our reactions cause them to think of what should happen next. While they may want to drive us to one outcome, I don't think they rule out the others as a possibility, simply because of what we've done."

"You know, I agree with you. That's exactly how I think. So don't look at what has happened as perhaps the Gods punishing you. You've grown ever stronger for it."

"I know. I just wish they were here to see it."

---

"Purpose? What sort of purpose?" Gerik asked, soon joining the group. Even if they were surrounded, he wasn't about to stand out on the outside-- his friends needed him in there.

"Why, young Acolyte, I've come here for... retrieval. You see... your little "party" is going to come to an end. Starting with bringing back each and every last one of you." The floating woman said. Her robes reached back to her mid-thigh, and she let out a venomous laugh, making the Acolyte wince.

"Us? What the hell do you want with us?" Muarim asked, looking around. Another one of those trillingly, annoying laughs. "We're just a ragtag group of adventurers! We barely knew each other till what, today? How on earth can you target us?"

"Simple." Bascht interjected, setting up another Fire Wall, just in case. "We've all been individually targeted. And now that we're together, her job's just become easier." He would have spat, if it were not for his mask. "The real question is, why each one of us individually?"

"Enough chatter." The woman replied. A growl rose in D's chest, and the Galion beside her gave a resonant one in return. "That's of no import, at least to you."

"Wait." "You mean--" Gerik started, before he turned to face her. "You mean the reason why my parents and I were attacked so long ago-- the reason why they died at your group's hands... was over me? You wanted me?" He shouted. She gave no response, and just grimaced. "Your faction would... ravage cities... destroy people's lives for what? A few individuals? What for?" She scoffed, and just turned her head. "TELL ME!"

"I'll tell you once you come back. Now, get them!" She said, pointing. Though, by this point, the Stem Worms had had enough of being burnt alive, and the Roween just stood around, lazily sniffing the air. "What? You dare ignore me? I am-"

"An imbecile." Bascht shot, coldly at her. "Any good adventurer would know that Galion and Roween are fickle at best, and do things on their own time. And your worms are just living plants. Let's see how much they like being burnt alive." He began to charge a spell, mumbling incoherent chants under his breath.

In that instant, D flashed out from in front of the Mage, his axe coated in a thin layer of translucent, crimson light. Swinging his enchanted axe, he sliced through a Stem Worm with the utmost ease, nearly cleaving a group in his wide, horizontal arc. The circle backed away some, and the Blacksmith just grinned, leaping up as high as he could as a volley of bolts of fire shot forth from behind him.

"Hey, Gerik, let's not get shown up, eh?" Muarim called, as he too dashed out to attack their attackers. The Acolyte nodded and clasped his hands in prayer.

"Goddess, grant unto my allies the speed and strength to overcome difficulty! Increase Agility, Blessing!" He chanted. His senses heightened, and he reflexively let out a long breath, feeling his metabolism catch up to its increased efforts, his mind reeling with a sudden surge of intake of information. He suspected that everyone else would feel the same.

He winced as he felt a sharp pang in his leg, looking down to see a Stem Worm constricting his leg rather tightly. He quickly drew his mace and began to bash the creature, which only made it respond by tightening further. He let out a cry of pain, though even alerting the others, he knew they were busy. That laugh resounded above yet again, and he grit his teeth.

"Fire Bolt!" Bascht's voice sounded, carrying over the laugh. Gerik felt head rush between his legs, the Mage expertly aiming each shot between them, striking the Stem Worm directly. It came some sort of curdling screech and doubled over, before it withered and dissolved into dust and leaves, the Acolyte falling to a knee because of the pain.

"Get up, Gerik. We're not out of this yet." D said, taking a stand in front of him. The Acolyte forced himself to stand, deciding that he was still in reasonably good shape. While he was a healer, he knew that he had to gauge himself, and save healing for when it was needed. He wasn't a machine, and each heal had to be well timed, and effective.

"No, we're not. There's no end to them." Muarim said, creating a shield around the Acolyte. He looked around as holes in the ranks were just filled. even if half of the monsters didn't seem to want to fight just yet, there were still far more than the four adventurers could handle. "We need a plan to get out of this. This is just a distraction to where we're supposed to be going."

"If we can break a hole in their ranks again, Gerik can you time another one of your agility buffs? We can make a break for it-- we'll never beat her." Bascht mumbled, as he placed another strategic firewall covering their back side. "I can create walls as we run to impede them. Then we just have to outrun them, and hide until things settle down."

"I can try." Gerik said. He wasn't the kind to make false promises. "I trust in you. Let's do this. I won't let you down." He added, remembering words that he held close to himself. Ever since that day in Ant Hell...

He shook himself of the painful reverie. Everyone else was fighting their hardest, he couldn't just stand idly by. He got into the middle of the circle, where he'd have a good vantage point of everyone, and continually kept tabs of where they were, and how they were doing. Constant chants of healing and blessing were doled out, in between the time he was fending off monsters of his own. Until--

"Now!" D yelled, and Gerik instantly snapped into action. Clasping his hands together in prayer once more, he called out to the Goddess Freya for divine speed.

"Increase Agility!" He shouted, quickly enchanting everyone yet again. They all made a dash for the newly created opening, though one thing didn't really sit right with Gerik. That had been too easy. True, Roween weren't the most aggressive of all creatures, but something still wasn't right.

His fears were only realized when suddenly, a flash came out from the side. He saw it coming too late, too late to warn anyone, too late to be ready. That woman, whoever she was, came flying out from the foliage, delivering a swift kick to D. The Blacksmith tumbled to the side, knocking against a tree and crying out in pain.

"Where do you think you're going?" She asked, as the group suddenly took defensive stances, facing her. "Even with these worthless monsters, I'll still catch you, even if I have to do it myself!" She let out a laugh again, through a growl cut through that again-- but it wasn't from her Roween, or the Galion.

"You..." Bascht mumbled, stepping in front of the group. "You dare--" He quickly removed his mask, and threw it at the ground. Gerik blinked. He'd... never seen the Mage take off his mask before. "Gerik. Make sure he's okay."

A chill ran up Gerik's spine. The Mage's voice was cold. Empty. The order was there but it still made him feel uneasy. He nodded, and ran to the fallen Blacksmith to Heal him, whilst Muarim stepped beside the Mage. "Alright bud, I got yer back. Go get her." He said, with a smile on his face.

"You..." Bascht repeated again, his voice having a void of any and all emotion, like when he and Gerik has first met. "You're going to pay."

[Bloodbane]

O-O MOAR PLZ!!!

[Zerrif]

Kay n.n I might put more tonight.

[Zerrif]

Author's Note: Okay, so I didn't get to writing. I blame going to my friend's house, and him having Odin Sphere, and litres upon litres of Arizona Green Tea. *_*

---

"Heal!" Gerik chanted, placing his hands softly upon D's neck. The Blacksmith was encased by the translucent green light, mumbling and groaning as he started to regain consciousness. The Acolyte looked up worriedly, only being able to hear sounds of battle in the trees.

"Gerik..." The blacksmith mumbled, trying to sit up. Despite the Acolyte trying to keep him down, he eventually won, having the other help him sit up against a tree. "Bascht... is--"

"With Muarim." Gerik said, assuringly. "She hit you pretty hard. You might have a concussion... how's your head feel?" He prodded softly at the crook of D's neck, where she'd delivered a furious Flying Side Kick. He was rewarded with winces and growls, the Blacksmith twitching slightly.

"Bascht... he went..." D mumbled, shaking his head. "You have to go help them. You... he can't..." Gerik just nodded, and stood up, adjusting his robe.

"Heal!" He chanted again, giving D another healing treatment, before he turned back to the trees. "It's alright. I understand." He added, before he closed his eyes and began to focus, before he started to run towards the sounds that he heard within.

---

"Flying Side Kick!" Muarim heard, standing in a defensive stance. He turned constantly, thinking he heard branches snap behind him. "No, that's a distract--" He thought to himself, before he whirled around on his heel, bringing his axe up, blocking flatly.

A crisp ring of a plated heel rang true against the flat blade of his axe, sending Muarim skidding back along the ground at the sheer force. This floating... woman was no joke. He brought his axe down to see she was already gone, gritting his teeth.

"Come on Bascht..." He grumbled mentally, hearing a rustle of leaves to his side. Rolling forward, he felt a whiz of air as she flew right above him, having struck right where his head had been. "You were supposed to have your spell ready ages--" He stared at the ground where he was standing, a large grin growing on his face.

"Whirlwind Kick!" Came the woman's cry again, and Muarim just braced himself for impact. He wasn't trying to dodge at all, bringing up his axe. Low, high, mid-- three successive blocks all happened before his eyes, before his hand flashed out, and clasped around her ankle. "Wh-what? H-how--"

"You always attack the exact same way. It's pathetic. You call yourself a Star Gladiator? I don't know how you got that prestige." Muarim said, raising his axe above her captured leg. Her eyes widened in fear, before the axe came crashing down. There was a loud crack as he brought the handle down right on her knee, making her cry out in pain.

He wasn't done there, though. Even if she was a female, there was no mercy in a fight for your life. He heaved her up, easily strong after having to lug around carts that weighed hundreds of pounds, before he slammed her down flatly on her back on the ground, winding her. She coughed to the side, not wanting to choke on anything, before she realized the point of all this.

A grey circle, emblazoned with magical symbols and markings was on the ground, and suddenly her legs were let go, the Merchant hopping back. She couldn't get up fast enough, looking up to see ominous black clouds right over her position.

"Thunder Storm!" Bascht called out, as a barrage of lightning bolts rained down upon the circle, the Star Gladiator's cries resounding through each crack and sizzle. The resultant force kicked up a cloud of dust, which whipped around the Mage's robes furiously.

"A...ahaha....HAHAHA!" Came her trilling, high pitched laugh, as the dust began to settle. She grunted, getting up onto both her feet, smoke rising off her body. "Is this the best you can do? I haven't come this far with practiced katas and known moves-- I EARNED MY RIGHT TO BE WHO I AM!"

"You pissed her off." Bascht said to the Merchant who just snickered. A smile crossed the Mage's pale features, his emerald green eyes twinkling with a sort of mischief that borderlined sheer evil. "Good. Go find Gerik, I've got this."

"Alr-- wait, what?" Muarim asked, staring at the Mage. "Listen, I don't know much about you but I don't know if you can handle--" The mage opened a palm at the Merchant, to shut him up. "Bascht..."

"No, she's going to learn that she'll forever regret with messing with me." He said, adjusting his glove. Muarim noticed something within the glove, a faint greenish-yellow outline in the shape of a rectangle, glowing. He smirked and nodded.

"I'm not lugging your corpse back to your boy, alright?" Muarim said. Bascht looked over his shoulder, a soft gaze on his features. "Yeah. That's right. Remember, you got someone to go back to. You can't be giving up on everything now. Gerik's there, doing his job."

"... You're still not finding him." Bascht said, that smile crossing his face yet again. Muarim nodded, and darted off into the foliage, leaving Bascht to turn back to stare at the recuperating Star Gladiator. "Now... how's about we get serious, huh?"

---

"Bascht's Mask..." Gerik mumbled, bending down to pick up the hard, plastic shell that the Mage had stripped himself of minutes earlier. He placed it inside his robes, as someone jumped out of the trees at him. Within an instant, he drew his mace and shield and was about to strike; scaring Muarim onto his back on the ground. "Muar! You can't be scaring me like that!"

"How is he?" Muarim quickly asked. Gerik blinked, before smiling and nodding. "Good. Come on. We've gotta get him over to Bascht." The Merchant got to his feet, spying the Blacksmith against a tree not too far off.

"Get him to--?" Gerik asked, before things replayed in his mind. When D went down, Bascht sort of... broke. He snapped. He understood what Muarim wanted now. Seeing that D was okay would probably calm him down some, and sort out some of the thoughts in his mind.

"Let's--" Muarim started, before a growling was heard all around them. He got to his feet quickly, and stood beside Gerik, as the Roween suddenly stepped out of the dense underbrush. "... Think they're finally deciding they want to fight, now?"

---

Bascht coughed, feeling the coppery taste of blood fill his mouth, and drip down the side. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, streaking crimson across his gentle blue robes, his chest burning with sheer pain. The Star Gladiator grinned as she surged forward, not letting up.

The knee that she'd just delivered to his chest struck like a hammer, and he knew that with her this close, anything he knew wouldn't help him this close. He could bring up his shield, but that would hinder his eyesight-- and she was so quick and nimble, either on the ground or in the air, that he needed to see every movement.

His right hand came up, his staff quickly hooking the incoming foot and barely guiding it away from his body. A fist soon came at his face and he heard the sickening crunch of his nose caving in, pain flaring in his face, sending him doubling over.

"You're a fool. Go back hiding behind your little shields where you belong-- but oh right, I can take those out too. Now how useless do you feel?" She asked, laughing as she stood over him. She brought a heel up to crush the Mage's sorry skull, but her foot hit solid ground, and not the delightful squish of flesh.

Bascht rolled around on the ground, despite the pain in his face. He got to his hands and knees, taking a swift kick to the ribs. He grunted, and mumbled very quickly under his breath, before he got up on his knees and fired a Fireball right at the Gladiator, if only to make some breathing room.

He coughed out more blood, getting to his feet, shakily standing. "You're the fool..." He grumbled, as he stood up straight, his body screaming at him internally at the effort. He dropped his shield and simply tightened his grip on his staff. "You're the deluded one. The only place I belong is here... in the fray. You're not going to strip me of that. You're not going to strip me of anything!" He clenched his free hand into a fist, and pointed it at the female. "This is where I want to be. And this is where I want to stay."