“And thus they fled through the western gate into the depths below, fleeing the great Kraken of the deep lakes. The hold before them was a tomb indeed, overrun with mountain orcs, but they had to press on, for their mission was urgent.” I clapped my hands, startling some of the children who had been sitting about me. “And that is where my tale must end for tonight. I hope you all enjoyed it.”

I rubbed the head of one of the pigeons as I finished my tale speaking about how the Heroes had finally entered the ancient Dwarven Fortress to cross the mountains, pulled straight out of my memories best I could manage.

It had struck me that I might someday end up doing the same thing, though I hoped I wouldn't have to fight any demons of shadow and fire while doing so. Either way, it was as good a spot as any to end my story for the day, as it was starting to get dark, and most of the children had already left.

“My, you certainly have a talent for that, are you sure you aren't a Skald?” Sister Henrietta commented after I had finished and all but the animals in my audience had run off. “You certainly seem to have a great number of stories in that head of yours.”

“I might become one someday, who knows, God says we should use our talents.” I giggled happily as one of the birds rubbed against my cheek. “I like stories.”

“And God says we should know our limits as well. Are you sure you're alright after healing that many people in a day?”

“Yep, I've trained for that, as long as I have a few moments to catch my breath between spells I'm fine, at least if it's only small spells don't expect me to create a couple small suns or anything.”

The elderly Nun laughed at that. “No, I suspect only Saint Mary in Pironia could do something like that. Or perhaps one of the other founding disciples.”

I smiled, though her words sent my mind back to my Father, he hadn't told me much about his time following the Saint, other than she was supposed to be very strict. He might be able to cast some major spells more than once in a row when he was younger, but I suspect he would have had a hard time with it by the time I was born. I had no idea if it was the same for Saint Mary. ‘I wish I could have asked him more about the world before he died.’

The woman must have noticed my melancholy since she ruffled my hair fondly, which upset the pigeons which had been vying for a roost there. “Truly God has given you many talents. Be sure to keep them fresh through your life. You've been a great help to the other healers and I today Brother Abbot. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” I nodded cheerfully, though to be honest, it was little trouble for me. “This is what being a wandering priest is all about.”

“heh, is that so? I was under the impression that it was about slaying monsters and saving maidens from dragons, at least from your tales.”

I pouted a little at that. “That's part of it too, but I'm no good for that. It isn't where my talents lie, at least not yet. Other than magic I can't do anything in a fight. My body just won't build any muscle because it's too young.” It wasn't my favorite subject, but Henrietta seemed a nice enough sort.

The Nun simply raised an eyebrow “That sounds like a problem many would wish to have. Perhaps you should feel more grateful for your prolonged youth.” she stroked the back of her hands, they were free of wrinkles, but she was clearly old inside. “I certainly am for my own.”

I smiled to fight off her verbal assault, just like the nuns in my old world she had a sharpened tongue. “I know that, and I'm grateful for my blessings, but it still feels unfortunate to never be able to wield a sword in God's name.”

“Many can never fulfill that dream, Abbot. I've certainly never done so, though I will admit I've never particularly dreamed of doing so. You should try to feel more content with your blessings.”

“Yeah but…” I realized I had nothing more to say as she gazed at me sympathetically. “Gah, whatever, it's still unfortunate though. I kind of wish I could be the hero from the stories you know?”

“Everyone wishes that.”

“Yeah, but I'm close enough to see it. That Spearman I travel with, Karsten, he's amazing with that thing. If he was putting notches on it for every monster he killed, just in the time I've known him, he'd have eight orc-skulls on it. A normal man might struggle to beat one of those brutes, and I doubt I could do much but die without my magic.

Mary somehow managed to sneak out a treasure from right under a chieftains nose, and only got caught much later.” I sighed, staring down at the pigeons on my lap. “It's not like I don't know what I can do, I know an awful lot of spells, some of them quite powerful, and I can keep them both fighting for a long time, but almost all of my spells are supportive and of those offensive magics of the Purifying Light that can actually hurt things, only one works on everything. A lot of them are really picky.” I turned to look at her. “I just want to be able to do more.”

“Well, I'm hardly someone to give advice on such a thing.” She chuckled down at me as I finished my statement, feeling a bit embarrassed by the entire affair. “But I think you should just wait and grow, you have the entire world ahead of you at your age. You can certainly wait for the opportunity yes? You may well still grow into the hero you seek to be in time.”

I smiled a little bitterly at that. “I know.”

Really I did, but maybe it was just some trait of my new life that I couldn't help but feel impatient about it. I leaned back, sighing. “Thanks for the advice.”

“What else are old ladies for Brother?” She looked up at the darkening twilight. “I need to go back inside and clean up, do you want to stay with me tonight? You said your friends had gone by earlier.”

“No, I'm sure they'll come to grab me at some point. Goodnight Sister Henrietta, may God watch over you.”

“And you as well, goodnight Brother Abbot.”

The woman departed back into the cathedral, and I was left sitting comfortably in the Holy atmosphere of the square, kept company in my thoughts by a few inordinately friendly rats and some sleepy pigeons.

‘But what more can I do?’

______________________________________

“Ok, you were right, this place is great.” Karsten cheerfully poked at her as they sat together at the bar. “And thanks again for getting me the new cloak the old one got ragged without me noticing.”

“Hah, of course, it's great, the companies good and the Beer is cheap.” she giggled, she had never had so much money before. 500 denos was enough to buy a small house in riverbelly or a farm. Just the feeling of it clanking against her thigh was spectacular. The new Cloak for Karsten had been a spur of the moment thing. Sure the ratty old one had added to his masculine image, but now he was wearing something she had gotten him herself. It made her smile, almost as much as the new Polnian Firelock at her belt.

The odd Polnian weapon had cost sixty denos since it was an import from before they put an embargo on weapons exports, but she had seen them in use in Polnia before and always wanted one. They were mostly like crossbows save for that their smaller bolts fired much faster and pierced armor somewhat, and you had to reload them with powder instead. The ones in Brindon were generally clunky and were fired with matches, whereas this “Handgonne” was fired by a rotating mechanism that sparked into the powder. All in all, she thought that it was likely a good investment, especially since it was much lighter than her crossbow.

It wasn't the only one in the tavern either, the place catered to adventurers from the academy, and her old teacher had brought her here a few times. The Rusty Hammer had good drinks, decent company, and you could scope out your competition.

“I'll say, it's been good fun today.” Karsten nodded, cheerfully. “Even if the archbishop was a little rushed his money’s still good.”

“Yep, I don't think I'll be worrying about keeping my stomach full for a long while, and while we're here we can look for… Ah Shit.” A look of dawning horror crossed Mary's face as she realized their mistake.

“What is it?” Karsten asked, growing a little more serious despite being a bit into his cups.

“We never went to pick up Abbot.”

______________________________________

‘I guess being in a city really is different. Kind of nostalgic actually.’ over the time that I had grown up in this world I had gotten quite used to it being extremely dark at night, and while even Brindon wasn't at the level of the glittering steel and glass cities I remembered from my old life, it was a real, fully populated city nonetheless, and even as the night wore on towards midnight people seemed to come and go around the Cathedral square. Holding torches or more commonly oil lamps.

It was an odd feeling, being alone at night here, well, not truly alone, what with my menagerie of animal friends, but for the purposes of a human conversation I was alone.

Ironically despite my small size, I felt safer now, alone in a city at night, than I ever had in my old world. There I was just another man going on my way, a bad-target for a mugging, but a target nonetheless? Here, well, my God was far more tangible, far more in touch with me, and I far more devout. I could send any would be threat scurrying back to the shadows in the blazing of holy light should I need to. Or, more hopefully, entice them to change their ways through not roasting them in their boots. Mercy was a powerful tool of persuasion, something I had experienced first-hand.

Thus, with no real fear of the night to speak of, I found myself relaxing even in the dark, and finding the sleeping tune of the city appealing. I walked in a circle, a ring around the edge of the cathedral square, lest my allies seek me and not find me. Occasionally a cart, often hauling goods, or horse dung, or something of the sort, would rattle by. A few drunks looking for fights here and there but they paid me no mind, and few of them would stick around in the aura of this holy place. It wasn't exactly an atmosphere conducive to fights. Still, a couple collapsed here so I sobered them up with a little magic and sent them on their way.

At the edge of the rim, I saw an Old Beggar, and I handed him five small loaves of rye bread from the Cornucopia and a bit of what Joseph had paid us for the trip. He was an old man with ragged hair from what I recall and missing a foot. He thanked me for my charity and went on his way, getting by with a crutch. I wished I could do more for him, but while I knew a spell for regeneration I hadn't the ingredients necessary to cast it properly at the time. I thought it was a shame, no-one should have to live and die a beggar.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Eventually, as the night wore on the activity reached an even lower level, as if the city which had been tumbling about in its bed had finally managed to get to sleep. Only the occasional clatter of wheels remained as the night shift carriages passed through the edge of the square, that and the occasional calls of nocturnal birds on the river. I took my place by the fountain in the center of the square, which now sat idle, the pigeons had returned to their roosts, and I entertained myself by talking to the rats who had come to join them.

It was some time after midnight when the moon was beginning to set past the city walls that I finally spotted Karsten and Mary making their way towards me. I grabbed my pack and stood to meet them, interrupting a very spirited, if extremely amateur Rat reenactment of the death of Macbeth. The players had certainly been eager after a little food and a pep talk, but their inability to speak meant that they dramatically overacted on their parts.

“Did you too forget about me or what?” I asked, cheerfully enough, as I ran over to meet them, they both looked a bit embarrassed and Karsten couldn't quite meet my eyes. “Oh C'mon it's not that bad.” I had rather enjoyed experiencing the city at night after all.

“I'm… We're sorry Father, we just didn't want to interrupt you earlier, and then we went shopping and well, one thing led to another.” Mary started, elbowing Karsten, who murmured in agreement.

“Bah, don't worry about it. Everybody messes up sometimes, and I didn't have a bad time with the rats. Did you two manage to get a room at an Inn.” There was no reason to let them mope about something like this. It was better to be cheerful.

“But…” Karsten started out, but I silenced him with a look. He was probably upset because he thought this violated his oath, which I hadn't really earned in the first place.

“No buts. Let's get to this Inn you found.”

‘Feeling guilty for being in love is not allowed.’

______________________________________

Kerlon let the illusion fall away, the magic slipping from his form as he discarded the useless crutch to the side. He had no need for either now that he had rented this hideout, a rickety old building in the land district that sat just slightly above the other houses, with a window that would let him escape onto the rooms of the city if need be.

‘So they've already turned it over to the church, damn.’

It had always been the most likely possibility. Any adventurer worth their salt would turn in such an item as soon as possible, but he had hoped for less competence than what he actually saw. The monocle in his eye hadn't picked up the gem on any of them, but that didn't mean he hadn't seen the way the woman (seemingly) subconsciously hid her bulging purse in the store, not to mention that the kids skin was slightly glowing, a sure sign of a reasonably powerful spellcaster.

No, that group knew what they were doing at least, but they would still have been easier to steal the gem from than the damned cathedral reliquary. The church took security seriously, especially with the more powerful magic items.

Still, he had planned for this, a break-in at the city archives earlier in the day had been covered up as an idiot seeking to burn the deed of the house of a man who had slept with his wife, no-one had noticed that the building plans for the cathedral had been swapped for a blank scroll. Why would they? Who was going to look for them unprompted?

So in front of him, he had a rough layout of the enormous building, though some side passages might very well not be present.

The issue, of course, was that the designers weren't stupid, the reliquary only had one entrance, and it was always guarded, and that wasn't even discussing the likely magic involved.

‘Perhaps a different approach is in order.’

______________________________________

I awoke midday, feeling fairly refreshed by the sleep, we had gotten into the Inn sometime around two in the morning, and I had been dead tired. Still, I was the first to awake, and after a week of sleeping on a boat, the change to a bed was much appreciated. Karsten had volunteered to sleep on the floor so appreciated to let me have it, and I let him do so to hopefully stave off any remaining feelings of guilt on his part about forgetting to come to grab me last night.

Mary had offered to let him share her bed, but he had just blushed a bit and shook his head, I suppose he wanted to let go of any guilt over that just as much as I did. Not to mention he was likely still in the embarrassing stage of courtship.

Either way, I woke up before either of those lazy-heads and, after my morning prayer, I got to work thinking about ways to do more in battle. The obvious answer was to learn more magic if my strength was insufficient, that or use a crossbow, but I was a poor shot due to this body never really picking up hand-eye coordination as much as I'd like, and learning different types of magic would lessen my connection to the light.

‘I could… no, the False Light is repugnant.’ That cursed brand of magic was bent only on suffering and crushing hopes and dreams, quite literally, the absence of hope was its power source. I had learned how it worked only so as to fight it better. The purifying light might be promising with time, the Flurm cantrip was it's only offensive spell not meant to bolster a melee weapon, but given time I might be able to do more.

The other available option was one I had shied away from despite its obvious power, mostly because I felt squeamish about it. The Forgiving Light.

Many of the spells of the Forgiving Light were, to put it bluntly, mind control. They were almost all ‘Good’ of course, restoring failing hope, calming someone’s nerves forcefully, driving people to be more empathetic or to literally change their morality to fit my own with one particularly powerful spell. My father had used all of them extensively in his life as a disciple, and I would hardly call them solely evil. Weren't they just doing what rehabilitation in prison was supposed to do?

Still, they made me nervous from an ethical standpoint. They seemed so easy to go overboard with, but I knew well just how strong that type of magic could be…

The question was, would I use it?

I sat and thought on the question for a while before deciding that yes, it didn't truly contradict God's teachings at any level. If I really had too I could use my magic to make someone become good. However, I decided that it should be a trump card, something not to get happy with constantly utilizing. At least not until I had seen its effects myself a fair bit.

Still, my own will wasn't really behind it, at least in thought. ‘perhaps I will find more on this in combat?’

Not everything could be learned in a day after all, especially when it came to understanding the morality of your own actions.

After coming to a tentative decision, I headed downstairs after hearing some talking faintly coming from below.

‘Maybe I can make a new friend.’

______________________________________

The surface, Catalina had weeks ago decided, was an odd place, and this tavern was no different. Though the smokey interior and smell of alcohol in the air did make it more akin to her homeland than most places. Even here it was obviously different. The architecture for one, built of wood and putty, was far less stable than would ever be acceptable in the cities of the grey-dwarves, and all sorts of strange creatures frequented the place, something rather uncommon in her homeland.

‘Of course, I suppose I'm one of the strange creatures here.’

It had been a bit of a shock, to say the least, coming up to the surface. When she had fled here she had found it a strange land, full of unfamiliar monsters and peoples, but over time she had found that it was not some unpredictable maze with no ceiling, but rather a society which had rules, albeit alien ones.

Rules that had her sitting at a table in a back corner of the bar which was built a foot shorter than those around it to cater to her mountain kin and the other smaller races which sometimes passed through the human lands just as she did.

The table had been empty over her time since she managed to get to the city for the most part, which is why it was a bit of a surprise when a halfling, or perhaps a human child, sat down across from her with a pint of milk, which he happily began to slurp down as she looked on quizzically through her vizor in disgust.

The fascination humans seemed to have with drinking the milk of creatures other than their mothers was always off-putting to her, and she felt her stomach being disturbed as the beardless youth across from her finished his glass.

She couldn't help it, even with her face hidden behind her vizor, it was just so… “Urgh, do you actually enjoy drinking that?”

The child, at least she thought it was probably a child since it was drinking milk, who had been facing away from her turned to face her, and she almost felt the need to put a hand in front of her eyes his smile was so bright. ‘Ah hell, just like fucking sunlight.’

“Yep. Milk is nice, and it's good for your bones.”

She felt like rubbing her eyes. ‘are all human children so shameless?’ Perhaps if she found the child's parents then she would be rid of the brat.

Looking back and forth she waved Katya over. The woman was a disgusting mixed breed, she had seen her kind in the slave pits before, but Catalina had quickly learned to hold her tongue about such things in the human lands. If more surface dwellers recognized a grey dwarf when they saw one she would likely be driven out as well.

“Do you know where this brat’s parents are?” She asked the woman, earning a hurt look from the child, though he went back to his ridiculous smiling right away as Katya responded.

“I think they're still asleep upstairs.”

“Nah, Karsten and Mary aren't my parents, they're my party members.” the Child spoke confidently, his eyes flashing with a mischievous light. “I'm a consecrated priest after all.”

She glared dangerously at the boy with that, even as Katya, far more streetwise than her, backed away from the table slowly. To claim to be a priestess when you were not was a good way to find oneself executed by the Inquisition in her old home. “Is the human God so weak that his disciples do not punish you for saying such things child?” She chuckled as the child's eyes widened at the insult.

Her laughter was stifled however as the child carefully placed his mug to the side of the table. The gaze he was directing at her now absolutely baleful, his words sounding carefully chosen despite the childlike voice that spoke them. “You really should reconsider that statement miss.” Despite its nature, his voice was firm. “While speaking Ill of me is acceptable speaking Ill of God is not something I can abide…” His voice trailed off, and she was a little caught off guard to be challenged in such an open way by a child.

Perhaps it was her curiosity at the nature of the child trying to threaten her that prompted her foolish answer next, or perhaps she truly had not learned her lesson when she had fled her home. Her impressive streak of other such fights in this very bar was evidence enough that she was strong, weren't they? This child was no threat. Either way, she rose to the challenge.

“Where’s your god then, Boy?”

The entire bar went silent and she realized that their little conflict had become the center of attention as everyone waited to see what the child would do. On further thought insulting the human God in the middle of one of their cities was probably a further error on her part.

Then she quite literally went blind as the child in front of her said a single whispered word under his breath. A blazing light leaping from his tiny staff and burning her face even though her helmet. Her eyes filled with white spots.

“Grah” long honed Instincts kicked in, and she batted the table between them aside with a thud, tackling forward and grabbing hold of the child's shoulders. She merely heard him continue to speak quickly even as she pinned him down, and she felt her armor begin to heat up around her. She had him grabbed by the shoulders so she took a rough swing at his face with an armored gauntlet, but she only scored a glancing blow as he moved his head to the side. He just kept whispering however and soon her armor began to hurt until it was literally scalding her.

Unfortunately for the small priest, she was a grey dwarf, and pain only made her angry. Her next blow struck how at more than a cheek, and she felt bones snap under her fist as she got a good hit on his jaw. The foolish human child beneath her let out a pitiful moan at the noise.

She figured that would be the end of it until the spells picked back up a moment later, his childish voice sounding only a bit angrier this time.

She raised her fist yet again, but found herself wondering why she was doing it in the first place, why would she ever attack such a cute little…

“No.” Her brain shouted, her Dwarven resistance to magic allowing her to shake off the spell he had cast on her mind, but it was too late, in her distraction he had managed to roll to the side with his torso, though she still had his legs pinned under him. She felt something poke up underneath the chin strap of her helmet, and this time he basically shouted the word, albeit garbled by what she presumed was a shattered jaw.

“Fwurm”

After that, everything was white.