For years the Holy Hhurch of Emilia The Saint searched for their messiah, for the child that was promised to them in hopes of cleaning the world of all evil. Cities get overrun by monsters, demons that pray on every human come night fall. Strengthening the faith of one cities people did little to protect them with false religions, founded by the devil, sprout everyday. Not only were there monsters to fight, no, they had to cleanse the world from evil any restore humanities faith in the one true god. Their saviour would help them restore their gods will, restore believe of every person and to ward of demons with gods light. And they found them. For years they protected their savior in a secret chapel, taught them the ways of god and listened to their advice which came through their natural connection to the heavens. Only a few select priests knew of their existence and even amongst those who knew, there were few who knew which of the children in their care was the true savior.

However, it was time to fulfill the prophecy. The savior had to be moved to an altar far away. In fear of having them hurt or kidnapped the clergy decided to wait as long as they could, but now they only had three months to take upon the journey to the origin of their religion. There was no room for error and while the churches guard consisted of formidable fighters, the chruch didn't want to alert their enemies. Only a select few would join, without their armor and for help, they elisted a bunch of mercenaries, consisting of mostly demon hunters. They didn't know who they protected of where there final goal was. All was set in motion to finally save the world and prove who's god was the true and only one.

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The world is a dark and brutal place. Most people don't remember a time and age without demons and their constant attacks. Not only that, priests from all sorts of religions fight against each other, some by words, most by the way of sword. Women are dennounced as witches and get burned at the stakes to cleanse the land and get rid of the demon plague. Once a faith gains control over a city or village, other thinking members of their communities get executed in hopes of saving everyone else.
There are little to no cities that are save, there are rarely any fields that aren't constantly destroyed. Mercenaries protect hunters in search for food, demon hunters promise to defend houses, or entire villages for the right amount of coin. There are no monarchs anymore, churches took control of most regions.

Most churches condemn any form of magic, except the ones exercised by their healers, which they call holy magic, but other forms exist. Demon hunters often practice magic, very well aware that they might be thanked for protecting a village one day and persecuted the next, because they had no choice but to use their magic to do their job. Healers face the same predicament. Whether they are simply not part of the clergy, or they use other means of healing, they often get hunted down for being witches and in pact with the devil. Some religions even sacrifice the innocent, because their believes are that the demons can be appeased by doing so. Truly the world as it is is no save place for anyone.

@marquis

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Appearance:

cff1469ebe08a4a0ad77b367ebe22ed9.jpgName: Azrael

Age: 25

Profession: Demonhunter

Background/Character: Azrael grew up with only his mother, his father died protecting the local church of a demon attack. He and his mother lived at the edges of town. His mother knew a lot about herbs and medicine, collecting plenty whenever she could and checked for the traps they layd to catch something to eat. Azrael watched her closely and when he was old enough was sent to do deliveries to the other villigers. He'd provide them with potions his mother made to either fend off lower demons, or to heal various illnesses. That was until the church decided that such practices were the cause of continous demon attacks on the village. One night the priests along with multiple villagers came to their little hut. Unsuspecting his mother opened the door to a furious mob. Azrael couldn't do anything when they grabbed and dragged her out. He struggled against two strong arms grabbing him. They took them to the church, the stake for his mother was already prepared. Azrael guessed that they didn't blame him for his mothers actions, maybe because his father once did protect the church. It didn't deter them from making him watch as the 'evil witch' - his mother was burned alive for being a witch. Demons attacked the very same night - for them a sign they were right, the demons were there to avenge their fallen comrade. Azrael didn't believe it and in all the chaos that ensued gave him a chance to run and he did.
Azrael was thirteen when his mother died and from that point onwards he was alone. Knowing about demon repelling herbs helped, even if it kept only lower ones at bay when he needed to sleep. He knew how to find food and catch rabbits as well. It took him a while until he approached other humans again, in another vilage wher enobody knew him. He sold some meat and worked whatever work someone would give him to eventually afford a weapon. Originally he planned to go back to his own village and avenge his mother, kill whoever was left, but fate would have it otherwise. The village gathered people for an expedition and promised a large sum of money. They took everyone and Azrael signed up. Killing demons wasn't something he had done up to that point, but it would become apparent that he was good at it and made it his job.

fc888e1d10beae2b54ec39e5f331dc58.jpgAzrael grew to hate the church and isn't a huge fan of other humans either. He works alone if he can help it, talks rarely and spends his time alone. He never went back to his home, unsure of if he even wants to at this point. He made a name of himself in the area he works in and a demonhunter his age was actually considered old. Many died young. Despite his gripes with any of the many churches he takes whatever job is offered to him, for the right price and recently he signed a huge contract.

Skills: Azrael knows a lot about demons and while he could share his knowledge with other hunters, he refuses. He has no love for others, he doesn't care if they die because of their lack of knowledge. He learned that sharing knowledge was dangerous anyway. He knows many demons weakspots, as well as certain combinations of herbs that can keep them at bay additionally to a good old sword to the face.
Azrael wields multiple swords and daggers, adapting to whoever or rather whatever he faces.
He also knows a little bit about natural remedies from his mother.

Appearance:

Name: Ignatius of Vlafast, the Messiah

Age: 24 years old

Profession: Priest

Skills: Skilled in all forms of magic one would not expect, Ignatius wields it like it's his second nature. Anyone would assume that he's in-tune with the world around him and soon find out that, perhaps, just maybe, they are quite right about all of that - the priests around him raised him, after all, and soon realized that he had much more than just the potential to save them all, and perhaps that leads to the haughtiness of it all. Ignatius enjoys conjuring the light around him, bending it into all shapes and forms that the world has to offer, be it as simple as a singular bell, or as hefty as an entire guillotine, or perhaps as imposing as an entire mountain - nothing is impossible to him, not like this, but one thing is for sure: The loftier the goal, the heavier the toll he has to pay; even years of preparation and honing his skills hardly change anything about that, even as holiness pours from his fingertips and a gentle touch is all it needs to heal even the most griveous of wounds. Perhaps one would claim he has the ability to exorcise even the strongest of demons, but up until this point, he has never tried - his hands were tied as he was raised and shaped in secrecy to be but another image, another idol for the church to worship.

Background / Personality: Ignatius parents are believers, that much was told to him, and that much he believes. Years before his birth his father had entered a holy order of knights, set on protecting the land and his mother, a saintess in her own right, fell for him once she laid eyes upon him. In the end, through the holy matrimony of marriage, they were joined together as one and in the midst of their tryst, Ignatius would eventually be conceived. His parents had always sought their only son become someone important, someone who'd live up to his name and thus, as fate willed it, the priests of the Holy Church discovered him one day - his parents surrendered him almost willingly, as if they knew he was meant for greatness, or rather so the toddler was told, and he knew not to doubt the words of the elder priests and priestesses around him; for their word was much like gods own, or so he believed for the first years of his life, until they started; visions that could only mean one thing. They were rather small at first, a simple glimpse into power he had yet to tap into, but the moment someone heard him mumble about them, his routine seemed to change: Simple bible studies turned into marathons of him being able to recite holy texts from memory, beginner classes of healing magic warped into a contest of who was able to tap into stronger power than ever and simple disciplinary classes turned into mannerisms that he'd only heard about when one read texts of a forgotten age, where men ruled outside of a clergy and kings were more than just fallen pawns. His siblings, not by blood but fate, eventually were bested by him, swallowed by a flame of passion and power that was his to harness - they fell behind him, even if they had far surpassed him before, turned from adversaries and playmates into toys to best with every breath that he takes. To him, they have long outlived their moments of glory, of pretending that they could be anything like him, but he entertains himself by watching them toil, by inviting them to play - by crushing their spirits with a single wave of his hand.

To this day, Ignatius respects his superiors and lives in the shadows of his home, without his parents, without anyone that could meddle with his talents, shrouded in darkness, clouded in mystery - he knows of the world outside, even as it is quite alien to him, but he does not yearn for it. Living a life where he isn't worshipped, where he's just another sheep able to bask in the light of the sun without a proper role to fulfill doesn't seem like his cup of tea, but alas, what is one if not a puppet of gods greater machinations?