Summary: Four friends, and a series of one shots about them being together as adventurers, idiots and enemies. A series of things that you don't normally see, but happen anyway.

Chapter 1: Questionable Usefulness!

It was a bright, sunny morning in Calderock Village. The birds were chirping, the stores were opening and thousands of adventurers flocked the blacksmith for repairs.

Or maybe praying that their plus six nonsense doesn't get blown up by hitting 'upgrade' too much.

That's not all, Calderock Village being Calderock Village and all. Down a few stores, you could see a poor cleric throwing up something merchant May tried to concoct. Near the town gates were groups and groups of adventurers preparing to set of to go for some monster hunting.

Yet also, somewhere behind a certain swords master's residence were four adventurers, sitting in a circle and having a heated conversation.

The first of these four was a young boy with sky blue hair which hung over his face. Out of the four, he was the most animated, doing hand gestures and pointing here and there once in awhile. On his back was strapped a skeleton sword in which he, unlike lots of others, DID NOT blow up and had made it to the plus SEVEN bonus mark.

It was pretty obvious anyway, considering that the sword had a shiny aura around it.

Although well…not like it made him feel special, since the other three had gay shiny auras around their weapons too.

Beside him sat an elf. Her long, blonde locks flittered as the wind blew as she sat, seemingly calm and cross legged. Her choice of clothing was rather…revealing in a sense but preserved nonetheless. She breathed in and let out a long sigh as the swords master continued his little rant, toying lightly with her bow's string.

Another slightly older man sat across the blue haired boy. His white hair which streaked down his face matched the majestic, white cleric robes which he wore. He was the one who seemed to rebut the younger boy the most, even if he DID state that he wanted no part in this.

The last of the party had long, flowing red hair who donned a standard, purple sorceress outfit. In her other hand, she seemed to stare intently at her book while her crystal ball rested on her lap.

Or under most cases, just ignoring the swords master.

Soon, the proclaimed 'chapel master' of the four began to speak, "Really, Gancelot. What are we doing here? Shouldn't we be using this time to find that red Minotaur Guild Master Deckard told us about."

"No way," the swords master, or now identified as Gancelot, folded his arms, "we're not going anywhere until we settle this right away."

Slowly standing up, Gancelot raised a finger and pointed it at the party leader, "We've been through many dungeons, Johanel. I've seen you shoot holy relics, kill monsters by BLOCKING and last but not least, scream in a really manly voice "LIGHTNING" whenever any electricity based skills are used. Bottom line…"

"What the hell can a cleric type class NOT do?"

"Didn't we have this discussion before?" the elf sighed as she set down her bow, "it can't be helped that the clerics have been trained in both melee and magical combat. They're just versatile that way."

"Ijfena's got a point," the sorceress slammed the book shut and looked up, "there's no point discussing this anymore, kid."

Gancelot folded his arms and pouted slightly, completely dissatisfied with the answer, "Well then, Miss BloodBall, how about you explain to us the basics of YOUR class, the sorceress. Or more specifically, the force user?"

"Actually," Ijfena raised her hand, "I think this is actually a good time to learn about our party better. That way we can coordinate our attacks much better."

"Kid, you do not call me by that title. I have a proper name, and it's Belluvia to you" the sorceress scowled at the boy before she began.

"As you know, I'm not much of a defender since I lack defensive capabilities like our leader here, nor the agility of Ijfena. Of course," she smirked at Gancelot, "and I don't rush in like a bumbling fool. My attacks focus on area of effects. Even in a mob the enemies would be utterly crushed, save even if it's a small crowd."

"But you're weak as heck," Gancelot piped up, "I remember that one time the manticore at the Prayers Resting Place jumped at us, Johanel had to throw you a potion to keep you from dying."

"Wouldn't have done much honestly. That potion only recovers meagre health," the most silent one noted, "even if I gave her three more, the manticore would have killed her."

"They do have a point, Belluvia," the archer nodded at the two male's remarks, "though I do admit, those gravity attacks of yours sure pack a punch."

"Glad to see not everyone thinks I'm useless…" Belluvia muttered before picking up her book again.

"Then, what about yourself, Johanel?"

"Well, if I must…"

The great, awesome, and shiny party leader stood up. Even Gancelot had to shield his own eyes. The sparkles on his mace were particularly bright and, with all due respect, his robes weren't exactly much of a plus factor to the swords master's eyesight.

"I'll be damned, Jon," Gancelot moaned, "could you get any freaking shinier?"

"Is something wrong with my outfit?" the paladin began, "either way, all of us should know this by now: the paladin is a rather heavy built class, focusing on repelling attacks or striking with holy magic. In my case, I'm more on offense, so my defensive based skills are of less priority."

"Bloody holy relic…"

-Gancelot is not amused-

"You were careless in our training," Johanel stated matter-of-factly, "Only grab the items when you are sure the enemy will not strike you."

"Oh, so you're calling me stupid now?"

"Actually, you are…" Belluvia muttered to no one in particular, "he used the slowest, worst skill in a man to man fight and a certain idiot got hit by it."

"At least I wasn't hit that much…"

"Gancelot," the most cool headed of the team sighed, "I'm not a warrior, but I'm sure getting hit four times by holy relic is no small matter."

No one noticed the amount of swear words which escaped Gancelot's mouth.

-Gancelot is not amused-

"Then I shall go next," Ijfena stood up, "I am an acrobat, so I incorporate the use of a shortbow. Like Belluvia, I cannot head straight out into the front lines, so I either support Johanel or Gancelot in their attacks from the rear."

"Unfortunately, Gancelot's attack style throws the enemy of my firing radius and spreads them out, so it is an occasional bother to coordinate sometimes."

"Good thing my spells cover a wider range," Beluvia said, not taking her eyes of her book.

"Wait so its MY FAULT NOW!"

"The truth hurts Gancelot," Ijfena sighed as she sat back down, "but your attacks are an occasional bother."

-Gancelot is still not amused-

"Hmph," the youngest of the party stood up, "then I better show you what it means, to be a SWORDSMASTER!"

As if on cue, Belluvia rolled her eyes, flipping her novel to the next page. Johanel and Ijfena, on the other hand, looked pretty much eager to listen what the teen had to say.

"As a wielder of the sword, one must be brave and charge into the fray without fear."

Stabbing his sword in the ground, he placed his right hand over his chest, "Even in the most fiercest of battles, we stay in the front lines. Our skills comprise of those which clear a crowd even in the centre of a battle. Of course, seeing as I chose the path of a Gladiator, my attacks are those that clash this shiny piece of steel with monsters."

"Uh huh…"

The youth was on a rage now, completely oblivious to the sorceress, "We charge in head on and break the enemy formation, stunning them with our-"

"Um…I got a question," Ijfena meekly raised her hand.

"Yes, my dear, what would you have me answer?"

"Isn't the part about breaking enemy formations the whole reason why it is hard for me to follow up with support," the archer placed a hand to her chin, "my attacks require them to be together in order for me to work effectively."

"So its MY FAULT AGAIN? IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE SAYING!"

"As a matter of fact, it is, you dumb kid."

-Gancelot, once again, rendered useless. Both in verbal assault, AND teamwork-

"What I believe the announcer is trying to say, Gancelot," Ijfena spoke up, "you got, how should I say…owned."

-Gancelot, PWNED-

"DAMN YOU ALL!"

"Well if that's all," Belluvia closed her book and turned away, "I think I'll give that honey to that giant muscle head of a warrior master. I'm sure he'd love it."

"I have to go and report to my master about something," Johanel stood up and said before leaving, "Oh and guys, we hunt the red minotaur tonight, be back here on time!"

This left Gancelot alone with Ijfena, the archer who looked kind of down as she paid the swords master no attention and caressed her short bow.

"C'mon Ijfena…I'm not that…"

"Not now, Gancelot, I have to restring my bow again," she sighed, "looks like I'll have to trouble my master now. See you tonight!"

"DAMN IT ALL!"

-Gancelot, not amused, and unsatisfied.


See you next time!

Note: Gancelot is still not justified.

Gancelot: F*k off.