“You’re bleeding!”

Olric looked down at his shoulder, where a small slit had appeared in his shirt, and blood was starting to bead in the scratch beneath.

“I probably just cut myself when I jumped the bar. Maybe a loose nail or something. Nothing worth worrying over.”

“That sounds like what everyone says right before they get an infection. Let me?” Cedric asked, raising his hand, looking at the cut with concern.

“Ugh, I’ve done worse to myself shaving. But if it’ll make you stop worrying, I won’t say no”

Cedric stepped forwards, and placed his hand on the cut, heedless of the blood that was slowly starting to drip out. He closed his eyes and focused. He thought back to years ago, before he joined the clergy. On his first week doing odd tasks as a quarryman’s assistant, he rolled his ankle shifting stones from one sit to another. He remembered the feeling of sitting down, and taking the weight off of it, and the relief that came when he pressed ice to it. It had been his first job, and he was embarrassed to have hurt himself in the first week, and tried to tough it out. Eventually the quarry foreman had sternly sent him home with instructions not to come back until he was better. He felt a smile tug at his lips as he remembered the old man’s gaze, hard but caring, and the beaten old foreman telling him not to be an idiot. He reached up with his free hand and grabbed his little silver hammer, feeling it’s warm touch. That warmth seemed to ripple through him as divine energy flowed into him.

He dredged up the feeling of that day, years ago, and let the emotions he felt in that moment of relief slowly wash over him, the gently guided it to his hand. He willed it forwards, and felt the power gather, before releasing it out of his hand and into the cut on Olric’s arm. A faint golden light emanated between his fingers, and he felt power gathering within flow out through him and into the half orc, as the flesh knit itself together. The cut had been deeper than Olric let on. Cedric felt the power of The Smith work through him, and for a brief second he felt like he could hear somebody beating a hammer on an anvil on the edge of his periphery. The rhythmic pounding soothing him, and making him feel the sense of rightness that always came when he cast heal. Then the feeling suddenly subsided, the hammer blows fading away, and he saw the light flowing from between his fingers abate.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “That cut was much deeper than just a nick” he accused the taller man. “Lucky you let me heal it. You could have lost a limb!”

“I’ve taken a lot worse in my day, boy. A lot worse” he chuckled, before looking up and giving a start at the blue clad figure who’d appeared next to them.

The blue robed wizard prodded a finger into Olric’s arm as Cedric removed his hand, stunning them both.

“Erm…hello?” Cedric began, not sure how to react to this unexpected presence.

“How did you cast that, boy?” the stern faced woman replied, continuing her prodding.

“I’m a cleric?”

The woman tutted.

“Don’t ask me, boy, tell me. And yes, I can see your shiny little hammer. But how did you cast that? Don’t you holy folk have to recite some long sermon about whoever it is you worship and put us all to sleep before you actually do something?”

Cedric stared at her, slightly taken aback by her casual blasphemy.

“And I know you didn’t just sneakily cast a healing spell. I cast a sphere of silence to stop that elven fellow from ruining your day by breaking all your limbs at once, and it’s not faded yet. Somebody as weak as you wouldn’t have been able to use any arcane energy at all with that still up. So…” she straightened and stopped jabbing a very nonplussed Olric, who seemed to accept a wizard prodding him as part of daily life, and turned to Cedric, fixing him with a stern gaze that conjured up thoughts of a librarian who’d just caught somebody talking between the shelves.

“How did you do it?”

Cedric blinked twice, looked at Olric, and looked back at the wizard. “Well, miss…?” he asked. He looked at her, waiting for her to answer, but only got another glare in return.

“Well miss…uh…miss, I don’t channel in that way.”

The wizard revolved her hand in a gesture that seemed to say “go on”. Cedric took the hint. She’s rude! He thought to himself. But if she did actually stop that bodyguards spell, and if it really was about to break all of my bones…

He suppressed a shudder. I can definitely overlook a bit of rudeness for that.

“Well, clerics typically cast by reciting tales, parables and quotes from their divine patron, and that allows them to evoke emotions in themselves and others. When you find the right emotions, they resonate, and it acts as a key that lets you access the divine power that your patron has bestowed upon you. In other words, we need the right mix of emotions and feelings to access our power, and channel our spells. The most reliable way to train new clerics is to teach them those stories from the holy texts, and let them experience those emotions that way.”

The wizard was frowning slightly, but nodding along.

“That still doesn’t explain how you cast nonverbally. You seem about the same age as the boy who shines my shoes. Nonverbal casting is something wizards don’t gain for years”

Cedric was much older than a shoeshine boy, and his eyebrows raised a fraction. Is she insulting me? But she seems genuinely confused. Could she….actually not tell the deference between a man in his late twenties and a kid?

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Pushing through that momentary confusion, he decided to keep talking. This person had, by her own account, prevented the elven man, Toloss, from getting involved in the brawl. This whole situation might have been a whole lot more lethal if he’d gotten his spell off Cedric reflected.

“That’s sort of the point. The tales and parables are really just a way to access the emotions and reliably cause a resonate in most people. Most people who come to the clergy are quite young, and don’t have much of a breadth of experience to draw on. I had a life, a job and a career before I became a cleric, and I…well…I experienced a lot”. Unbidden the scent of smoke and sound of clashing metal started to dart at the edges of his consciousness, but he pushed it aside and kept talking quickly, before it started to take over his thoughts.

“I can pick out my own memories and select ones that make me feel the right way, and put me in the right mindset to channel divine energy. That lets me cast nonverbally right off the bat. Since my memories don’t put me in the exact same mental state as some of those stories do, sometimes my blessings come out a little…wonky. But usually they end up stronger than what I really should be capable of at my level. Most senior clerics actually do the same. I just got to do it a little sooner than most”.

The wizard was nodding along. “Interesting. I must say, I’ve avoided any churches and clerics for a long time. When I was last out and about for long enough to run into them, they kept trying to burn me at the stake. Never really got a good look at how they cast, since I was always running the other way!”

She let out a throaty chuckle at the end of that statement, and Cedric felt his brow furrow in confusion. The last witch hunts on this continent were over two hundred years ago, and even then, only by a few radical sects that were considered extremists even in their day. They definitely weren’t common in the slightest for at least a few centuries.

“Anyway, that’s all well and good, but if these students are learning how to cast their miracles, or whatever you lot call them, through stories, how do you cast your version of combat spells? Surely you lot aren’t reciting tales of bloodlust to young kids!”

There is was again. Cedric thought. Nobody uses the term “miracles” outside of certain large scale blessings anymore. Most divine magic is spoken of in arcane terms nowadays.

“That’s sort of the thing. I’m a cleric of The Smith…” he trailed off at the end there, letting the implication hang.

“And?”

“So I’m an acolyte…”

“What does that mean?”

Cedric stared for a second, then caught himself. Be polite. She might just be an eccentric.

“Well, major deities have acolytes and battlepriests. Acolytes like me study the greater mysteries, and don’t really leave the clergy very often. It’s why we’re a little rare in the outside world, especially for minor deities like The Smith. Us becoming adventurers is even rarer. We tend to be more focused on healing and support. Battlepriests are the ones flinging around combat magic. Acolytes like me don’t really have any combat training at all.”

“So you’re probably going to get killed in a dungeon somewhere. Congratulations. But what does that have to do with your deity?” the blue robed woman pondered.

“Minor deities aren’t allowed to train battlepriests in our clergy. We don’t even have martial traditions or framework to teach it anymore” Cedric stated bluntly, annoyed at having to say it. “This is all fairly common knowledge, though…” he left the bait out there, wondering if she’d rise to it. When she blankly looked at him, he sighed, and continued.

“There were issues with some clergies of minor deities disagreeing with the clergies of the major. Things got…bloody. To prevent breakaway sects from becoming armed or militant again in the future, they were outlawed a long time ago. We can still become battlepriests in our own right, but we have to forge our own path.”

“Fascinating. Simply fascinating. I wish the churches had done that when I was still running around. Would have made my job a lot easier” she said through a wolfish smile.

Cedric shuddered slightly. There was something not quite right about this woman. “Err…yes. I’m hoping to become an adventurer, and eventually become a battlepriest in my own right. I don’t have any combat cantrips myself yet, but I’m hoping that during my career I’ll gain deeper insights and manage to learn them. Then I can hold my own in a party as more than just a healer.”

He nodded to himself, and felt a steadfast reassurance fill him. This is why I’m here. Not to brawl with nobles or to justify myself to random old ladies.

“I will become a battlepriest. I just need to work at it” he said, this time more confident, standing up straighter, and meeting her eyes fully.

The woman looked him up and down with a searching gaze. He felt Olric looking at at him intently too.

Eventually the blue robed wizard seemed to see whatever she was looking for, and nodded, once, sharply.

“Good luck.” She said simply, locking eyes with him for another second, then turned on her heel and walked back to her table. She flipped back open the book and began to mutter to herself, suddenly engrossed as if the entire exchange had never happened.

“What a strange lady” Olric mumbled, before turning back to Cedric.

“Look, I have to report this to the guard after all that commotion. They’ll probably be bursting through the door any second. Unless you want to be here until midday answering questions, you should head to the Guild office now. They know where you’re staying, so if they want to talk to you, they can find you. I have to give them your name, but I doubt they’ll care that much”

Olric was looking at him deeply now, as if he was also looking for something.

“If you’re serious, you really need to go now. Losing a day to bureaucracy will only slow you down. Sign up as soon as possible, and get in line for a sanctioning quest. A cleric like you, even if you aren’t a fighter, will be snapped up quickly, but the faster the better. If you’re really gunning to be a battlepriest, well, we could always use more of those.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and talk to the guards with you?” Cedric asked. “And what do you mean sanctioning quest?”

Olric let out a short bark of laugher. “Kid, a brawl happens in this place practically weekly. It’s fine. Besides, they guards won’t push the matter too far, because, well…”

Cedric groaned. “Yes, because of Hroth and his mysterious powers and position, which you’ll no doubt avoiding telling me to egg along whatever malicious prank this is.”

Olric’s toothy grin let him know he’d hit the nail on the head.

“The Guild office is a short walk due North from the market square. Head there, walk a few hundred paces, and you’ll see it. Big stone building with a bunch of people coming and going. Hit the pavement, and hopefully you’ll get there before all the lazy casuals wake up and make the lines an hour long. Good luck!”

Cedric nodded, scampered over to grab his scroll case and letters of introduction, and looked mournfully at his cold breakfast before deciding to cut his losses and practically sprint out the door. As he started in what he assumed was a roughly Northern direction, the sun making him blink at the sudden influx of light, he realized he’d missed something. Olric said “us” when he said the adventurer’s guild could use more battlepriests. And I have no idea what this “sanctioning quest” is.

He walked briskly, trying to duck and weave between other pedestrians. He also moved like…well, he moved like a fighter. Just who is he?

He shoved it to the back of his mind. He could interrogate Olric later. Right now he had a goal. He squared his shoulders, and with a resolute look on his faced, strode forth. Today was the day. He’d finally take another step on his road to being an adventurer.