Fer listened as the rough voice of the adventurer delivered sharp words in his blunt manner. He could very well assume that the man’s sword was just as sharp and that the observations behind his words was due to past experiences with people who had probably not been strong enough to survive. He surveyed the old adventurer over the rim of his cup and wondered about all the stories and experiences that had shaped him into the person that was now sitting in front of the three would be world saviors. The young hero swallowed his beer, the nutty taste starting to find favor in his mouth. Marcino must really be somebody of considerable skill if the king placed so much trust in him to train the heroes that would protect the world. Fer had no doubt the old gladiator could very well take on most enemies that they may face but he wondered how much stronger these monsters would be that a man of his skill would still have to grudgingly depend on such young people as them.
 
He was still silently measuring his own strength against imaginary monsters stronger that the man before them when the mentioned of slaves made him almost choke. His ancestors had been enslaved and many of the countries of Central America and the Caribbean of his world had flourished under the blood and tears of enslaved people. The young hero put his drink down. The mention of this topic left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew that despite the fact that slavery was not politically backed or common place in his time and in his world, oppression still ruled. It saddened him to know that the feral looking people he had seen on the streets of the city were considered less than humans. He sighed for he knew that even in this world, differences were not accepted.
 
The young hero almost rose when Marcino did and shrugged off his comment about his usefulness. One way or another, he would do his part regardless of how glorious or mundane it may be. Marcino’s logic regarding putting in as much practice as possible was sound. Fer was not tired and he would sleep better if his mind was at ease regarding his skills and his usefulness. It was always easier to move forward with a plan and guidelines than winging it. So he turned to Cole and nodded to signify he was also ready to do battle. Then his eyes fell on Auriel, though he had ben siphoning most of the drink she was stubbornly refilling. He wondered if it would be best if they waited but he figured that her being incapacitated would actually prove better training for the two new comers as it was quite possible any ally could fall or be injured in battle.  
 
He turned back to Marcino as the man yet again expressed his views on the defensive type weapon. Fer had no doubt that the older man was more used to attack than defense and could see why in his eyes the shield was little more than a coward’s tool. His mind quickly drew the conclusion that the weapon was actually suited to his type of fighting. As a scout, his tactics were more hit and run or miss direction.  He had drawn on his youthful days when he played soccer.  There again, he had been a defender but had also assisted the offense in probing the other team’s defenses and incrasing their numbers during a forward push. He knew that each team member had a role no matter how small.  A team won or lost together.  Before he could speak up to say that he would protect and serve as best as he could Cole fervently spoke up.
 
Fer let his companion finish his speech before he nodded to Cole in appreciation of the lad’s feelings and added his own voice to the proclamation. “All I can promise is that I will serve my purpose in whatever way possible. You are right that I would be useless in killing things but I can very much bet that my responsibility is defense.” His voice had been firm but not defensive. He knew his role and he would play it. He looked at Marcino, his eyes even with the man’s. He too had seen much blood and pain like the old adventurer which is why despite the older man’s best tries he would never explode on the man. Fer needed Marcino, his experiences and all the skill the man could provide. He knew better than anyone the benefit of a teacher is does not sugar coat it.  This was not some glorious war that would bring renown or status to him. This was survival. You had to fight dirty to survive. You had to be ok with doing things that was morally questionable. People who needed to survive did not have the luxury of worrying about what was proper.
 
His voice was again clear as he addressed the old adventurer again. “You say you are not suited for this teaching work but I say that you are exactly what we need. Here we are, two kids who know nothing of this world. We are about to be plunged head first into this battle. We will need all the help we can get. You will help us survive. All I ask is that you hold nothing back. Time will tell if we were a waste of your time. Now…” he said with a grunt as he stood up. “I would like to start on this training. Also, is there a place I can find out more about the old Shield heroes?”