Daregim watched as the now dead man was carted away. His thoughts turning to questions. Why would he want to offer his hard earned money to a man's funeral? Wasn't that the business of the church and the family? He cringed for a moment. The idea that could never be a reality. He would never help with a funeral. He would never become a priest, and that was his place in society. He was an adventurer now, and he was sure he had the love of the Mother on his side even with his wrongdoings. "I'm going through this tired old monologue again. I'm an adventurer now," He thought.  With a deep breath, Daregim pondered the significance of the gem. He had just spoken of finding the man's family, but now he was formulating a crude plan. The musings of the old Dwarf would find themselves turned to words at times. An old habit he had picked up from his father when he was much younger. "Find out who." He muttered. "Find the relatives." He continued. So deep in thought, he came to only when the Archbishop said the words, "The Dragons are returning. [b]He is returning.[/b]" Any thoughts of helping the man vanished, and were replaced with those of fear.

He paid close attention to the words that would be spoken next. He wouldn't shake in fear; the horror he felt couldn't be shown. He was a Dwarf.  He was to be stout as stone. He was a servant of the Mother in some way, and he had to show the proper resolve needed. Daregim kept a stalwart and blank face, accepting the sapphire with a polite nod and a "Thank you." He put the precious item back beneath his mail and leather. Then, dragons flew over the city. The elderly man instinctively reached for his shield and axe, crouching down. More out of fear and habit than anything else. He remembered he was in a church, and with some quick shallow breaths he put the weapons away. "Stout as stone." He whispered. He had recalled stories told about Artorias. He was the monarch of malice. The lord of lust. A liar through and through. Everything he did was an affront to the Mother and her will. No matter what, he was there only to take power, murder, and create evil in the world. Daregim would have to steel himself even further. 

The Dwarf watched as Elizabeth was called up by the Archbishop to receive the Mother's blessing, completely oblivious of anything else for a moment. "Mother keep that woman safe," he said with a frown. As far as he was aware, the Maiden's never failed in their duty, but there were Dragons above the city now. He was sure there was a huge possibility that she could die, that the church would be destroyed in the process. That Artorias himself would do the job. Daregim sighed. He had never witnessed a situation like this. So he did what he always did when he was stressed, scared, and had the time and space. He prayed. Daregim walked to the pew he had been in, and took a seat. He was tired of kneeling. He looked to his right, and picked his helmet up. He didn't put it on out of respect for his deity, and offered only a few prayers before focusing on the ceremony. Short and quick prayers were something he rarely did, but not watching the holy ceremony could have been seen as an affront to the mother, and Daregim didn't fancy himself as a blasphemer. He wasn't sure of what would take place exactly, but he hoped that the Dragons wouldn't interrupt the ceremony.