faithbound. [marquis & Earinor] - Vorstellung - ღAnime-Rpg-Cityღ
@marquis

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When Azrael arrived at the agreed upon place, he wasn't prepared for the number of people he found there. Knights of the church, priests and a bunch of mercenaries and demonhunters like him were all running around. Azrael didn't like working with others, he rather took some money to dispose of a specific demon in an area, or defend someone who stayed in their little tiny hut, without disturbing him. Today he got presented with almost an army, albeit be it a small one. Multiple mercenaries brushed past him as he approached a knight at a makeshift table. He had pieces of paper before him, a list with multiple names and he promptly asked Azraels. He answered him and procurred his own set of papers, his contract he signed a while back in a tavern two towns over. He was handed a half of a coin and eyed it, while turning it between his fingers.
"What's this?", he asked.
"Prove of your commitment. As long as our shipment arrives at its designated location, this will make you elligable for payment at any of our churches. Together with your name that is, and you can only cash in one. Don't think about robbing your fellow mercenaries."
"Haven't planned to, but thanks." Azrael looked at the coin again, then stowed it away. "So if I leave now but you make it, I still get paid?"
"Theoretically yes, if our shipment arrives savely."
"And where is that?"
"None of your buisness."
Azrael paused. "Very well." With that he turned and left, letting the next person sign up. There was nothing more that man would tell him and not much more he needed to know. It would have been easier knowing what they were suposed to protect and where they were headed, but if they didn't want to share that information with some random mercenaries, fair enough. Azrael went on to lodge at the outskirts of the camp until it was time to move the next day.

They started moving in the early mornings. Mercenaries were talking amongst eachother, speculating about what they were guarding. Some were asking if what they guarded wasn't more valuable than the gold they were promised, but an uproar didn't seem likely at this point. Azrael kept away from most of them, simply picking up rumors here and there. There were minor demons attacking in the first night, nothing either of them couldn't handle, yet their attacks seemed a bit odd to Azrael and he would find out why soon enough.

On the third night their party set up camp near a large rock formation. Whatever the knights of the church guarded was moved into an alcove they found, knights set up tents around it and patroulled around them. More knights were forming a second ring while the demonhunters and other mecenaries were the forfront. They set up camp too, way more unorderly since most of them worked on their own or in little groups. They set up some logs for defenses in case of an attack, but nothing more. Amongst themselves they designated a few guards while the knights also sent two of theirs to patrol outside the camp. Azrael found himself a good place on his own, to the side and not too close to anyone else. He threw down his backpack which would double as a pillow and a blanket he would lie on. After eating a bunny he caught on the way, he lay down to sleep for the night.
It was already dark and most fires went out when the slightest of movement woke Azrael up. Immedietly he opened his eyes and laid one hand on the ground - yes it was definetly shaking ever so slightly. He put his ear on the ground next. Hoves, but not those of a horse. He got up, grabbing something from his bags. He mixed two strangely colored powders after making sure that he wasn't watched. Once they collided a small turquois spark flushed before his eyes. He didn't need more convinging that a big demon was approaching, one that usually didn't come alone.
Azrael abandoned his things and instead woke the mercenaries near him, telling them to get ready. Albeit not too eager at first, they spread the word to every single one of them while Azrael went towards the knights to tell them to get ready too. The sheer fact that all the mercenaries got up and seemed to take the warning seriously also sprung them into action. Everyone took positions, the mercenaries at the front, while the knights secured the back. Still, what was soon revealed to them was what seemed like a whole army of demons and one of the feircest battles Azrael ever had to fight in ensued.
Mercenaries as well as knights fell throughout the night. The longer the night went on, the fewer in numbers they were. Azrael wasn't good fighting with others, but in this case he kind of had to. Knights grew reluctant to help up front with little of them left protecting their prescious shipement. Eventually the demonhunters had to merge with them to form a line. It was a long battle that raged on the whole night. Even though all they had to do was survive until sunrise, when the demons would have to retreat into the shadows. Even the priests came to help, trying to heal their knights, but were picked off one by one. Azrael didn't fight for whatever the church had there, at this point everyone had to fight for their own lives.
Eventually Azrael found that he was the only one left standing. The demons had to retreat and the demonhunter picked up a few more while they ran. With the last demon gone, the battlefield grew silent and Azrael allowed himself a break. With a big sigh he let himself fall on his back. He was used fighting through the night, but this many? No. Crows were already cyrcling above their former camp while Azrael still caught his breath and just needed a short break. He needed to think as well. Were the demons after that shipment? What even was it? Should he attempt to get it where it needed to go? If he could even figure out where that was, or should he just abandon this endavour? Maybe he should just bring it back to the church from which they came. They could find another bunch of people to risk their lifes over it, but why even bother bringing it back?
It was only then Azrael noticed movement behind him. When he looked up and stretched his neck a bit backwards, a red haired man already stood right there, wearing the colors of his church no less.

This place was unfit and crammed, he'd told them that before, but they insisted he'd make use of it - he'd be safe if he just let himself be contained, his magic hidden beneath one of many spells, hidden away from the demons that might just come out of every shadowy crevice they found to simply lay their rotten hands on him and do whatever they wished - be it to corrupt him, or call about his death, or just about anything that a devils child would do. He'd heard enough stories, enough old and tall tales about things that would happen to him if he stayed in their vicinity too long, if he fell to the darkness within peoples hearts that sought to corrupt him - and even then, Ignatius was someone that firmly believed he'd never fall for idiotic tricks like this, simply because he was superior to them, for more than a single reason. Some of the priests probably hated his guts, especially those his own age that knew they had failed at greatness and would never reach the same lofty heights as he currently had; he was ephemeral in every way of the word, uncontainable and undefeatable, and he'd keep himself alive for however long he needed to - they all worried too much with their feeble minds and realized too little as they had sheltered him for too long.

The first steps outside of his own home were ardurous, much like the incessant conversations of unworthy strangers that the holy order had hired to remain undetected among the rest of the world that was seemingly out to hunt him down if need be. Why hire sellswords if he could defend himself? A question he was refused an answer for; even as they kept him out of everyones sight and hardly communicated with him, they simply acted as if he were another one among them, not worthier or greater of gods word and no less important than he'd always been. A joke, that was, what it was - he couldnt even make any of this out to be a smart move, but he had to accept his fate as he saw places he'd never laid eyes upon before: Simple villages and towns, empty plains and rocky paths, lush forests and burnt settlements. If anything, all those demons were hot on their tail while Ignatius was forced to hide away and pretend to be less than the haughty figure he always represented and that he'd raised to be; he was holiness incarnate, carved out of pure gold and given to only the worthiest to raise. Still, for now, he had to sit still, had to attempt to calm his temper that became worse with every passing moment - he had to accept that, in the end, he was nothing more than the means to an end and quite literally needed to fit the role he was given, to save this dying world, this decaying realm, and for that, he needed to be elsewhere, but not here.
The first two nights were endurable, even though he made his complaints known among the people closest to him, chastised them for not caring for him properly, for having him lay among the rest of them, just slightly removed, but among the commonfolk, pressed against the same cold ground that he treated on during daytime - they listened to him, they bowed their heads in shame, but they had nothing that they could offer him instead and it was almost as if he knew that when he went to bed on the third day, without a single complaint. His head had started to hurt in the early morning hours and his throat was dry, his chest burned uncomfortably and every sudden movement of his eyes was met with a hot flash that ate into his body and made him prepare for a vision, or two, or maybe even more; but nothing came of it, emptiness was all that remained and every moment that he anticipated it grew longer - it only hit him in his sleep, when the smell of charred flesh and bubbling blood finally hit his nose. Nobody had woken him up, they had simply left him where he was, or perhaps they had not managed to rouse him from one of his late-night visions, pulling him deep into the nether of nothingness. Ignatius needed but a moment to realize the situation around him, to see the blood drip from his fellow priests bodies, to recognize the viscera that was torn from their very bodies and his own eyes widened, partially in shock, as he made one realization after the other and had to come to terms with the fact that this would have happened even sooner if they had let him use his magic beforehand - they still found everyone in record time, and yet, all he could do was look at them, dumbfounded and forlorn. It raged on and he was forced to watch them, continued forth for hours until the sun finally rose, and as he found himself looking at the aftermath, he sighed deeply and thoroughly before every single soul was banished. What now? Was he supposed to continue forth by himself? He was three days and nights away from home, from a church he'd never left, with mountains of corpses stacked around him. From his momentous grave he rose and wandered around, checking each and every body in his vicinity for a sign of life, for a wound that needed healing or for a death that was reversable, and yet, none of them were in good enough shape to even escape their eternal captor. None but one.
Ignatius eyes darted upon the stranger that seemed to at least be beaten up but not entirely gone and his gaze softened, or perhaps that was just the light playing a trick on both of them, but he still came closer. "Are you in need of healing?", he questioned, almost as if he were to rob this man of all the pain he'd sustained tonight - he could, if he wanted to, but should he? "I take it you're the only one left."

The stranger approached too silently, but he didn't posess the stench of a demon. Still Azraels hand gripped his sword harder as soon as he noticed someone was there, only to stop himself, this man was not a threat, at least not right now. Was he a priest? So he wasn't the only survivor, huh? Azrael quickly got back on his feet and stowed his sword away. "I'm fine.", he answered almost instantly. He was a bit beaten up, but he got no wounds that wouldn't heal on their own if given a bit of time. "Who are you?", was his immediate question. Not that he knew every priest by name here, not at all, but Azrael hadn't seen him before, at least he couldn't remember is face and his clothes were remarkably clean. Next Azrael let his gaze wander aound the battlefield once more. "I haven't checked if anyone else is still alive.", he remarked, but he doubted it. A sigh escaped his lips and he put his hand at his hip. "Must be quite the thing we were supposed to protect if the demons send a lower lord for it. Is it still here?", he asked, not knowing that he stood right before it.

Whatever it was they protected, if the demons didn't get it, they would send more and more and if demon were so interested in it, people would be too. This job was hardly worth the money, even if Azrael probably didn't have to work again if he got the payment. If castles weren't constantly attacked by demons, he could have gotten himself one. Initially he wasn't even sure if he wanted to see this job through. He thought he'd take a look and see what all the fuss was about, if it was worth staying, but seeing what happened the night before, maybe it wasn't. Since there was a priest still alive, it probably fell to him to decide what to do next and Azrael was willing to hear him out for now, but he'd demand a payraise if he was supposed to stem the jo of an army by himself. "What now priest? Find your shipment? Follow the demons? Bring you back home?" Technically if the shipment was stolen, Azrael wouldn't get anything for protecting the priest further, but maybe another price could be negotiated.

They all were somehow not convinced that he could be who he was, weren't they? The hostility was a new thing, and the fact that someone would willingly raise their weapon at him surprised him to say the least. Surely, his fellow priests had fought him in their youth, but it had never been about blades and always about magic - there had been no excuse for either of them to escape their little spat or spar, and thus, they knew pain, at least to a degree. "Truly?", he asked aloud, knowing that fine wasn't exactly always what it meant from his own behavior, simply molded onto others. Would one listen to their inner being, then perhaps they'd soon realize that they weren't as fine as they claimed to be. But who was he to judge that for anyone? He couldn't even know how this man felt. Much less could he know who he was - well, not that a stranger needed to know. "Ignatius, one of the priests. And you are? ... Well, a demonhunter, but what is your name?", he guessed by the appearance the pale stranger bore; shrouded in dark clothing and yet, everything that the bloody, eldritch rags bore below them seemingly appeared as if they were nothing more than the bruised bones of a shambling skeleton. "None of my brethren are, I know as much.", the redhead informed the stranger. How unexciting this man was - he was a stranger and yet, there was not a single moment in which he felt as if he wanted to truly talk to him. "The ... thing?", he raised his eyebrow.

Apparently, nobody had told the strangers what it actually was that they protected, it seemed - well, wasn't that just a smart move? Sure, he could reveal himself to be just that, but he knew better than that. How curious. "Ah, I've never heard anyone call it a thing before - but you wouldn't know if no one has ever taught you what it actually is. Either way, rest assured, it is indeed safe." Ignatius himself was fine, he had everything were it needed to be and he damn well knew that the many eyes that lay upon him were watching, if he wanted them to or not didn't matter much for sure; after all, he was the one that had to be elsewhere, had to go places he'd never known and then, he'd had to cleanse the world and turn it into what it was supposed to be. Being a priest came with a price, but alas, he was happy to simply still be in one piece, was he not? "Press on and find the next monastery, after all, going back is out of question at this point and following the demons, well, I doubt you alone would be enough to rid yourself of all of them. Don't see it as an insult, there's simply too many." Besides, demon hunters were selfabsorbed and unloved for a reason, at least that was what they had told him when he had once asked about them in his youth. Selfish, much like his own being, and yet even worse. Ignatius looked over his shoulder, back to where he had rested last night. "I'm ready to move if you are."

"Just some bruises, they will heal by themselves.", Arzael reiterated with a slight grumble in his voice. He wasn't fond of the church and even though he'd be dumb to deny a healers ability when he was seriously injured, now was not one of those times. He was used to being bruised and it wouldn't hinder him fighting. "Name's Azrael." He had the courtesy to tell the priest his name as well, since he so willingly had offered his own. Azrael wasn't really sure what that man thought of him, but he hardly cared anyway. He knew that the church paid demonhunters for helping them on missions like these, but at the same time they despised them for who they were. There were very religious demonhunters too, but even those mostly practiced their craft on the extreme side, more oftne than not taking the ire of the churches upon them. "Well if they haven't made themselves known by now, I doubt any of the demonhunters or knights are alive either, or at least not in a shape to accompany you." Azrael looked at the red haired stranger again. "Yeah thing, shipment, relic, whatever it is."

To learn that that thing was still save was a surprise. Either way, the priest didn't seem eager to tell Azrael what it was still. He didn't need to know. Still, was he sure he could trust this man? This was a dilemma. He couldn't know if the priest just intended to use him even if the thing was gone, but there was no way of knowing the truth, even if he showed Azrael some junk. Instead he had another question. "Seeing that I am the only one left, I feel like I should be given a raise. The initial price hardly seems worth the trouble seing how many died last night.", Azrael voiced. "Can you ensure better payment? I'd even argue it's easier to travel in a smaller group. Sending half your clergy had to raise eyebrows." Before Ignatius could even answer Azrael turned to face the burned tents that were the knights and some corpses in front of it. "We should at least take what we can, it's not like those people still need it." Maybe one of them had a map with the location of their actual goal, otherwise some equipment for that priest would probably come in handy and if Azrael found some extra coin as well, he was the last to complain. He eyed the priest over his shoulder. "I'm surprised you don't have any rites for the dead, usually your kind burries, or burns them. Or says aprayer, cuts of their head, I lost track of all the churches antics." Some believed to have to do either of those things to keep their own from turning into demons themselves, or to release their souls. Azrael started prodding down one of the corpses, finding a nice dagger he called his own now. Could never have enough after all... Otherwise traveling light wouldn't be so bad though. "Do you know where the next monestary is?"

"Right on.", he responded to the pale figures denial of any magical services whatsoever. In truth, mayhaps he should have never offered them and let a mortal taste ambrosia that he hardly knew, but why not? Who knew what demon bit this unsightly man where and how deep the wound truly was, or how much he required to get back on his feet. "Pleased ... to meet you. As pleased as one can be in this dire situation.", Ignatius responded, his voice still content but the disdain somewhat chiseled into his face. To him, demon hunters might not even be human, or perhaps they simply were questionable entities he had no time for. Wasn't it so? The moment they had taught him about any of them, he had come to realize that they were not so different from any other ghastly being on this planet, be that a demon or a rotten man, but definitely not holy. As his own eyes observed something this quaint, a silenced camp filled with nothing but mortified groans of the long dead, he had to come to the conclusion that, just perhaps, it would be so much easier to simply trust. But why did nobody teach him that, then? If anything, he was resilient, he was an adult - wellspoken and expertly raised, but then why was he lacking in at least this very way? How questionable, if not daring this entire approach was. "Or they ran off before they could take the brunt of the assault."

Cowards were common and Ignatius had some sort of respect for them; small amounts of it, but at least some. Why? Well, it only served to show that they understood that they were not meant for greatness in that very moment, knew their own limitations and perhaps faults and would rather live than to die by them. Could he fault men or women like that? No, not in a hundred years. "Whatever fits quite well.", he reasoned instead. Who would ever guess that this thing was not human anyway? Probably not this guy, good for barely anything, though sturdy enough to accompany something like an entire clergy. It worked for certain reasons, surely, but even then, that wasn't good enough - hell, if they had five more of Azrael, perhaps he himself would not even be needed at this place. Would he? What a question that was, but alas, perhaps it was better left unanswered. "More payment? That isn't for me to decide, but I doubt they'd deny you, given that you're the sole survivor of this ... massacre, let us call it as it is." Ignatius called the shots, but not in that way - he couldn't just decide whether or not he wanted to spend church funds on one thing or the other; those things weren't his, even though he thought he deserved them, simply for being who he was. They all should praise him for a good reason after all and that meant he deserved more than the average man, too. "Rites for the dead and plundering corpses? Don't get me wrong, but those souls don't need a rite, or a prayer. Not even a soothe." Their souls were lost as was, and yet, he was turning his nose up against someone like Azrael, who clearly was just helping himself. What a fool. Ignatius treaded carefully and went back to his spot, only to grab his bag, kick one of the corpses that were in the way and eye up Azrael. "I don't.", he immediately made clear. "Well, I know, in theory. Not that I've ever been there, though. It's north from here."

The priest was surprisingly calm after seeing his bretheren dead right before him, or what was left of them. Had he been near a fight before? Near a battlefield? He was a man, not a kid, that much was for certain and yet Azrael didn't know where to put him. If he wouldn't be able to smell a demon from a mile away, he'd wonder if this Ignatius was one of them, disguised as a priest. Then again, the members of the church weren't much better than demons, nor was any random man or woman. No one stood up for those wronged by the churches, no matter which one set the stakes on fire in either village. Azrael found two daggers, a sturdy rope and another knife he picked up and eventually offered the priest. "You should take a weapon, just in case, if only to cut your food. Your kind eats meat, yes?" Not all churchmembers did, again, it depnded on which church they belonged to. On the road it was easier ofr Azrael if he could feed this man with rabbits and birds and in the unlikely case a demon got to close to him, a knights dagger should come in handy. "Demonhunters know better than to run from their prey. Even if the tables are turning, you can't outrun them. Better fight trying to survive than being stabbed in the back."

Ignatius didn't seem like he thought to highly of either of the corpses here. Neither the demonhunters, which was to be expected, nor the knights or priests seemed to gain his symphathy. In that regard Azrael and him were similar, but he doubted they had the same reasons for their distain for others. "How come you survived. Without a scratch and cleanly clothes no less?", the demonhunter aked, once more letting his gaze wander over the only other survivor of last night. If Azrael was honest, this whole endeavor stunk. This person wasn't able to promise him more payment and in the end, Azrael didn't even know if he wasn't killed once he handed over whatever they protected, just so he couldn't tell anyone about it. His gut told him to leave while he could, leave this man by himself and he wasn't sure why he didn't. "They don't?", Azrael asked, tilting his head. If the demons wanted to turn something, they took them, not left them behind, but not everyone saw it like that. The priest had no respect for the fallen, an odd sight, but Azrael didn't follow all those different believes, so he didn't know if it was odd. Something told him however, that this priest was maybe the worst of the bunch, something about the way he looked at those dead bodies and at Azrael let his alarm bells ring. He couldn't trust this man, which meant that their journey would get harder. "Well then lets get going. How many days will it take us? Do you know? If we can't get there by today, we should cross the river east from here, then head north."

People died every single day and yet he was supposed to feel remorse about these? They died in vain, had gone on a mission that was his from the start, but alas, they had been sent here and taken useless precautions without even doubting their masters once - Ignatius wasn't much better, hell, he listened to his superiors like a pet, simply because he figured he'd not surpassed them yet - and yet, this trip opened his eyes. Was it mesmerizing enough to take his mind off of things? Never. Azrael wasn't enough to entertain him, or even to keep him on his toes, and yet, what did it matter? "My ... kind? I eat meat, that's not a sacrilege.", he answered with a shake of his head, not knowing what he expected. Was it that Azrael was simply not sure how to talk to someone like him, or perhaps he found himself questioning every word he uttered in front of him? If only he knew how to look into other peoples heads, he might have an answer for both himself and the man that now was asking him about things that he could eat or would rather stay away from - Ignatius plucked a knife from a corpse, a morally wrong action still, and wiped it off on his garments, mostly unblemished from the struggle that had transpired. "Better flee at sunrise than waste your breath on an uneven struggle. I'm surprised you stood your ground while the others failed, but, well ... it was to be expected."

With a heavy sight he was wary enough to not get his clothing any dirtier - Ignatius had learned that the dead held little regards for the mortals and as such, he lived by it. Even as he figured his saintess to be a monster, or perhaps an idiot, he could not be any further from the truth. "Some things are hard to comprehend, I get it.", Ignatius belittled the mans simple mind that questioned the state he found him in. Should he tell him another lie, or perhaps feed him a tidbit of idiocy? No, playing with ones food was never a smart idea, as much as he hated to admit it. All the redhead wanted to do was rest easy, but even that was not given to him - he was granted the freedom he never wanted, thrown out of his gilded cage that he adored more than ever, no longer delicately fed by hand but rather forced to fend for himself. "One of us had to protect the artifact, simple as that. There need not be any more casualities in a massacre, you know?" A soft chuckle was enough to make his uncanny behavior seem even more outlandish and the young man had already done so much to curse himself with an unspoken fate than he needed to. "No. That's te issue, they don't.", he chattered away and looked at the dead that were simply lying to his feet. "A day, if even. Depends on how well you can walk, I'd say. Either way, as long as you're willing, just point the way to the river, I'll follow.", Ignatius made clear and looked at the gleaming blade in his hands, then snorted at it - what a silly thing to use.

"Your kind as in priests of your church. I don't know nearly enough about your church, but I've met those who would refuse to eat anyting living, those who stayed away from simple things like eggs and those who bathed all their dead befor burrying them, even in the most unfitting of situations. You must know of other religions, surely.", Azrael answered. Well he was content with the answer, that meant it was easier to get this priest some food should he get hungry. Watching him so nonchalantly pluck another knife from one of the corpses, made Azrael even more wary of him. Not like it wasn't anything he or other demonhunters would so, but it was odd for a priest. His distrust for this man grew. He could have left him, attacked him, or maybe it was better to have someone else of his church varify who he was. Azrael could still leave then, even without payment, maybe it wasn't worth it. If only he knew if the demons attacked because they knew what the camp held, or because it was an unusual enough sight to just get their hands on whatever they hid. Ignatius' words struck Azrael as odd. "No need to flee once the sun rises, most demons can't stand it, or at the very least get weakened.", he educated the priest, only to look at im with a raised eyebrow. "What now, were you surprised, or was it expected?", he asked. Neither of these options made sense, this man didn't know Azrael.

If Azrael got mad anytime a priest taked down to him, he'd never have a peaceful day. He ignored Ignatius' remark and his explanation didn't make him anything less suspicious. If Azrael were alone, he'd have no problem getting rid of any demons that might be on their heels, but he didn't trust this man to agree to use so called 'dark magic', so Azrael didn't bring it up. Once they crossed the river, any demon should lose their scent, hopefully and besides that, there were those who weren't able to cross running water, lower demons, but those were the ones coming in huge numbers and the ones best to avoid. "Once we are at that monstary, what will you do?", he asked, since he knew he wouldn't get a satisfying answer to any other questions he had. For now he walked past the priest and led the way as asked by him. "I can walk just fine...", he mumbled more to himself, he doubted the priest cared and he doubted someone like him was used to a days march, unlike Azrael. For now he sat a quick pace and made sure to keep the stranger two arm lengths away at least.

"They're simpleminded is all I can tell you. Those who don't know how to achieve power will do anything they can to seem important to others; you have nothing to fear with me, not when it comes to food. I take what I can get, as horrid as it sounds.", Ignatius replied with the shrug of his shoulders. Why would he wait for someone to hunt him something that was to his taste out here? That would take too long and the less time he had to spend wandering through the glades of this forlorn planet, the more fun he would have - sure, maybe it was a shame he didn't take time to enjoy the world for what it was, but he'd never been raised to be vain like that; he had some sort of virtue, even though he hardly showed it. "I do, but I don't bother with them. I was raised to believe in what I think is true and not some sort of closeminded idiocy.", he educated his unforseen companion. Truthfully, Ignatius believed in what he wanted, whenever he wanted to and there would be nothing deterring him from something that he found to be true. Other religions and castes didn't interest him, that much had always been apparent, but now that he was out here, nobody would shush him for voicing an opinion that deranged in the first place - given that Azrael probably did not care enough. "I'm aware, although I have not seen any of them up close until last night. They look disgusting.", he snorted.

Not just that, some of them looked like torn children toys held together by muddy swampwater that had no business roaming the lands, but alas, that was not for him to judge and, in a way, perhaps it was just right of him to ignore everything in that regard. "Both. It's not like I've ever dealt with you beforehand, but if my church hired you, the outcomes are to be expected, you know?" Surely an odd comparison, but all in all nothing that one couldn't overcome with the right amount of understanding - Azrael seemingly lacked it and yet, Ignatius followed him, much like a dog kept on the shortest of leashes known. "Pray for their souls, relinquish them to the realm of our saint and resume this journey. It's not like this isn't of utmost importance. What about you? Aside from asking for more coin, you know.", Ignatius asked, his smile neither of importance nor any truth - none of this needed to happen, hell, neither of this had to happen, but the demons were coming for something, or perhaps someone, and should they not make it to the monastery until nightfall, they might have a problem. The redhead moved, begrudgingly, and tried his utmost to keep up with the man that landed him in this predicament in the first place - or so he believed. "Glad to hear. If you need healing, though ...", he offered once more.

On some hand Ignatius was right, the churches tended to find villians where there were none, just so they could claim they'd done something to protect their followers of the demon hords and yet Azrael doubted his faith was different. Power is what they sought as well, not peace or the riddance of those demons, power, to rule instead of the demons. What was it worth trading a priest for a monster, they all were the same to Azrael, they all killed in the names of their false gods. There was no god and even if there were, they were cruel and undeserving of any praise. Of course he didn't voice any of this in front of the priest though. "What you think is true? A priest who's not an absoluteist? How strange.", Azrael remarked, but it was probably just a slip of the tongue on Ignatius part, even though he seemed to choose all his words wisely. "For not seeing a demon before you're quite calm. Not all of them are ugly and you'd be wise to not judge a book by its cover. The ones disguised as humans are usually the worst kind."

There were too many types of demons to count and probably even ones Azrael had never heard of before. Sometime sit felt like new ones sprouted everywhere, making use of new tricks, but Azrael was proficient in identifying them, if given the time and chance. With the churches it was often times tricky to use what he knew, what is mother taught him. "Well I'd say this whole expedition went largly unexpectedly, with everyone hired but me dead and all.", Azrael remarked while straying off the path to find a way to the river. The bushes weren't too thick here. "I was asking if you hire new demonhunters and gather more knights and priests around you. I'm not sure if the pay is worth the trouble, as I said before and I don't like protecting something I know nothing about on a journey I don't know where it leads to." Surely for bringing this guy back Azrael would gain some form of payment and that would be enough to cover his expenses. "Keep your strength for yourself. I'm not the one you should worry about."

What a feeble-minded individual, and yet, was it anything he could doubt? Oh, how sweet it was to hear the triffling opinions of someone that, by far, had no idea what to do with himself, though, he figured that perhaps, Azrael was smart enough not to be an idiot at this stage in time. "Strange? I don't think it is, actually. I believe in something that some people might not indulge in, which is fine by me, but I must not view everything that I've ever heard as something that simply is the truth, you know? I would be nothing more than a child, and gods forbid I form my own opinion on any topic as a priest.", he answered, quite outspoken, too. Perhaps it was not right to do so, but maybe, eventually, he'd learn that not everyone appreciated his view on things the same as he did. Loudly proclaiming himself to be but one of many, yet different from all of them never was a good idea; often enough, it led to being branded as an outcast, or to be exiled from the herd that one should find themselves to be a part of. Horrendously enough, it wasn't so. "Humans can be demons in their own right, nut just in a fleshy guise. I think we both know that - actually, though, I do judge them by their looks, mostly because they look grotesque, but perhaps its simply because I am not used to demons at all.", he murmured, and yet, it wasn't something he'd strictly keep to himself anyway.

Ignatius was, if anything, not only a resourceful soul but also a merciful one, made out of the finest gold one had to offer, with the biggest smile he could ever bear, if he so chose to. Right now, he was trecking through the backcountry, dredging his entire being through mud he'd never figured he'd see up close and wondering if he'd truly, definitely make it to a place that was more comfortable than this ... whatever it was. Definitely not home. The travel was supposed to be ardurous and the way to their destination a long one, though, given the opportunity that all of them were offered in the first place, perhaps one should have practiced something like this with a body double first instead of simply deciding that, why, yes! It was quite the good idea to just go in raw the first time around. "I knew, partially, that this wouldn't go well. I wasn't sure about the scope of this disaster, though, and let me be honest, I didn't think it would be as large as it is." Could he be any more honest? Oh, the redhead doubted it, but he'd seen bits and pieces in his prophecy and dreams, as he was kissed by someone so holy, he had no right ot bask in her light for more than a well-earned minute, but even then, he somehow did. Why? What was wrong with him? All of those questions were good, justified even. "No. Their lives would be wasted in vain and as you said, you like smaller scope operations, no? Then so be it. If you can guarantee the artifacts survival, we do not need much more." Which also meant his survival, in a way, but he'd not said anything yet, not when he was busy burying his boots in the mud of yesteryear and wondering how the water of the upcoming stream would even taste or feel. "Fine, I heard you."

"I didn't know priests were allowed to questions their believes, their gods even.", Azrael remarked. He didn't care much about it and he doubted this prietsts religion was any better than others. They all killed those who didn't view the world like them, maybe not everytime they saw one, not when they could be useful, but eventually. Azrael shot a glance back at Ignatius, who said something very true for once, but he doubted they meant it the same way. Of course a priest would condemn those that didn't fit in their narrow view of the world and call them demons, or witches. Azrael on the other hand called humand not better than the monsters they fought against, because of them had killed just as many innocent people. "So, you never were in a battle before and you never saw a demon before last night. What makes you think you are the right person to protect whatever it is you are carrying?", Azrael plainly asked. Wouldn't it be better if one of his bretheren survived, someone who knew what they were up against? Or was he chosen to protect that thing to his last breath, because he'd been useless in the fight?

"You knew?", Azrael asked, wondering if that meant that that thing had to be truly iportant, but no. He said it before, such a large party would raise eyebrows everywhere, two men on their own? Less so. "You know, if you want to stay undetected, you might want to change your clothes. Even though traveling priests are not unheard of, disguised as a commoner, or a demonhunter, you'd have an easier time laying low.", Azrael suggested, while pushing away a thick branch to reveal their first destination. The riverbank was lines with round stones and pebbles and the water looked clear. Azrael proceeded forward, kneeled down at the shore and splashed some water in his face, if only to get rid of some stray demon blood. The water was shallow enough to cross, but they'd get wet to their hips. He turned around to face the priest again. "Wait a minute, you want me to keep accompanying you?", he asked very much surprised by that revelation. He raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm up for that job?"

"Am I questioning my god, in your eyes?", he asked Azrael, his tone confused, his eyebrow raised and his overall understanding of the situation perhaps somewhat diminshed. Ignatius knew many things, many people - but he hardly knew himself, or what the outside world was taught about people like him or his brothers and sisters in arms. Had anyone ever felt like it was necessary to tell him? Not really, now that he thought about it. To keep their closest thing to god somewhat dumb had sufficed, in many more ways than one, and to keep themselves occupied by never teaching him curiousity was something that they seemingly benefitted from, too. What a rotten bunch, one would assume, and yet, he simply viewed it as was - an unforseen circumstance and a happenstance that was necessary to keep him pure, yet, he'd only lived long enough to now start questioning many more things. "My theoretical experience. Given, I may be lacking in the field, but that's what you and your companions were supposed to be fore. In theory, I could probably do most of this alone, but in practice, I could do well on my own.", Ignatius explained away, almost sure of himself and any sort of actions he might partake in in the future, given that there was one for him in the first place.

"Partially, and slightly too late." It was but an admitance of things that were best kept to oneself, but in a way, foolish as ever, he had to admit that, and he stood behind his mistakes, for they were but stones in a path to greatness. Why, if anything, was he worried about something like that, though? His amicable behavior was one of questionable nature, sure, but he also had to be honest in what he was trying to achieve - peace, or perhaps simply a moment of respite. "Fitting in with the masses? Well, I could certainly try. But not in the rags of the dead, or anything like that. They will have something for me at the monastery, I would presume. Let me try, then.", Ignatius took the advice to heart, at least the slightest bit, as his own thoughts were all over the place. What could a guise like that achieve? Two demonhunters would attract just as much attention as a demonhunter and a priest, especially if the latter had gone rogue and was now joining someone else in their despicable efforts - and yet, maybe Azrael was not wrong, not while moving through this sort of terrain and leading the likes of the redhead through running water which most demons would not be able to cross in the first place. What a childish rule and what an idiotic bunch of critters ... "Yes. You've proven yourself capable of protecting this artifact, so why not?" Whether or not his day would be doubled, tripled or perhaps even blown out of proportion remained to be seen - surely, Ignatius could do something about it all, if only because he sat up top in the church. Almost forlorn, he gazed into the water before him and watched his flickering reflection with great interest; the water looked deep enough, at least beyond the shore. "Why would you decline as long as you're paid appropriately? I can't say for sure, but if you can do the work of an entire army of men on your own, you are also deserving of their pay."

"You priests usually state all that revolves around your believe as fact is all.", Azrael explained what he meant, but it didn't matter to him either way. Before crossing the river Azrael refilled his water and drank from it as well. One night without sleep was fine and he had eaten yesterday, so they should focus on traveling for now, just in case some demons tried to pick up their scent and tried following them. The river would help in getting rid of them, but Azrael questioned if going to a monsetary was a good choice. "Well, you have a big mouth, why need my help then, if you do well on your own?", Azrael asked. The water was cold, but not too cold. No need getting his coat all soggy though, he got out of it and together with everything he didn't want to get wet, like his weapons, he held it over his head while he started crossing the river. The stones were slippery, but the curent wasn't too bad, even if they slipped, they wouldn't be lost, just wet from head to toe.

The fact that that huge party rose suspicions had been clear, the outcome maybe not so, but this priest was arrogant enough to assume he knew a lot, didn't he? Azrael arrived on the other side first and got back into his coat, afixing his weapons to his belts again, while waiting for the priest to join him. "Mh... so the only reason we go to that monestary of yours is for you to get new clothes? That' is?", Azrael asked. He for one didn't want to go there and if he could help it would stay away from that place. He wasn't even sure what his goals were at the moment. "I'm flattered by your trust in my abilities,", he sarcastically remarked, "but I'd rather not join the dead anytime soon. Besides, you said you couldn't promise me better pay and additionally I don't know what kind of secret mission you have, but I'd also rather not be killed once I bring you where you need to go, because I know too much. I know how you people are like, we demonhunters are just necessary evils you tolerate as long as we keep those demons away from you, but afterwards? We might as well be demons ourselves." True, this man had not said anything that would led Azrael to believe that he hated the likes of him, but he didn't need to. The world wasn't that complicated.

"That's close-minded and dumb. Is that really how they teach you commonfolk?", he asked. Priests were often reverred, if not loved by their community, or so he'd been told by his peers in his youth - their word meant more than that of some lot, surely, but that was about as far as things went. Wasn't it stupid to believe that everything a single person produced from their lips was fact? Lies could be common, or even some sort of in-fighting that caused information to become muddled and twisted, and then, when one lied to the other, nothing good could come of it. This was stupid, but the disdain for churches was perhaps something that people didn't do out of no reason, oh no. If anything, Ignatius heard Azrael and his complaints loud and clear as he walked through water and wondered if he possessed the ability to simply cross the river by using the moving surface of the murky depths below as stepping stones. A saint that could walk on water was neither anything new nor uncalled for, but then again, he was not portraying one right here, right now - Ignatius was just another sheep among the herd of priests, for now at least. "Because I lack practice and if I'd do well enough on my own, they wouldn't have hired an entire army. Besides, nobody ever told me I have a big mouth ... how come you stand up to me like that?", Ignatius questioned, sounding curious and offended all the same as he was drenched in impure water as he made his way to the other side.

If he slipped and fell, which was highly likely and yet failed to happen, he wondered if he'd ever find his way back out. Not once had he been taught how to swim, or how to behave around others that weren't of the same clergy, or shared his age, or even ... well, any of those things, really. In truth, perhaps it would have been easier to simply raise him where he was meant to be instead of waiting forevermore to let him set out on a journey this preposterous by his lonesome. "No, don't be silly. I will get my change of clothes there, if required, is all I'm saying. There is no need to go back and tarnish the dead even more.", he sighed, his chest puffed out and his appearance probably akin to that of a rooster as he checked the lower strands of wet hair that he now sported, seemingly playing with few of its locks as he wrapped one around his finger and looked at the demonhunter that was so eager to continue on. "So, what you're saying is that you deny your want to involve yourself with any of this further? That is saddening to hear, but I can't force yourself to accompany me to god knows where. Would fitting payment change your mind?", Ignatius inquired, knowing he could promise no such thing. "I can put down a good word for you, after all, you've protected me so far and I haven't been robbed by you yet ... you're not worried they'll kill you for being the only survivor, are you?"

"How they teach us? I'm just observing. Do you think villagers care about which church settles near them? Which priests walk from door to door, offering prayers? It is all the same to us and nobody cares as long as they are left alone, but as soon as demons attack said region, who do the churches blame? Imganary witches and if they can't find some believable sluaghter lamb, then it's the demonhunters, or the lack of faith from the villagers. None if that is true. Demons aren't scared of your gods and your magic isn't holier than that of commoners who happen to be born with the same gift, yet you priests kill them and blame us for the demons sometimes chatoic behavior. It's like blaming a sheep for being hunted by a wolf.", Azrael snorted. It seemed the priests didn't know what happened all over the world themselves, but unknowingly killing people didn't make it any better. Azrael sat down on a bigger rock, waiting for the priest who carefully chose his steps through the water, while drying his own pants by wringing the ends. "Why wouldn't I? In my eyes you're not a higher being, or more worth than someone like me. Why would I not tell you my opinion? You might even learn something." Was the priest getting slightly mad? His soft voice overshadowed everything he said.

Azrael sighed. He wasn't sure what he hoped for, but some compensation for bringing this guy back would be nice and besides that, despite his hatred for the church, he wasn't going to let a helpless priest be eaten by demons in the woods. He doubted this guy knew were north was to begin with. "They might not kill me yet, but I don't even know what I am protecting or where we're going. They said it would be quite a journes that it'll take up to three months. The money for that was alright, but food and lodging was somewhat implied, by accompanying your knights. Now I have to feed myself and you out here and if we'd happen to come by a village, I have to pay a room out of my own pocket. Do you even have coin with you? Do you even know where exactly it is you're headed?" Azrael stood up again now that the priest had crossed the river too. They should keep moving. "If I were to accompany you, I have some ground rules, do you think you can listen to a demonhunter?"

Azrael brought up points that Ignatius had never considered - to him, all that the church said was the word of god, one he had to follow and he actually never doubted his peers, but who was to say that he was going to keep it that way? Surely, it wasn't enough to shake his core beliefs like that, but it also showed that, in a way, he had never thought outside the box he found himself inside of. Reality was but a stone-throw away for him and now that he stepped into it, perhaps it was time to put aside some misunderstandings that he had. "What you're saying is that you don't blindly trust and believe, is that all? Like I said, I can't speak for my brothers and sisters, or fellow priests in general, but I was ... not aware of the fact. It's a shame they waste their resources like that, specially just to hunt the innocent. Then again, if not for the church, who else would govern this forsaken place of land?", he asked in retaliation, as if it were some sort of comeback that definitely needed to be spat out as was. Perhaps it was only right that he said something, if, on the other hand, it might have been a mistake to defy someone that clearly held the upper hand here - Ignatius simply was no one to back down in a situation he figured he could handle, especially if there was no superior to judge him. "I've never had anyone speak to me like that, that's all.", he simply sighed. Not a higher being, huh? What a ... questionable effort at dennouncing his superiority. "It might be good to hear you out, though, you're right. Who knows, maybe you have more than some jests to share?"

Ignatius was, for all intents and purposes, sheltered and perhaps even a little bit wary of the world outside his own four walls - talking to strangers, however, seemed much like something he shouldn't do either, and yet, he likely didn't care much as the anticipation within him grew. Was this what one called child-like curiosity? Not likely, perhaps it even was an idiotic statement to give, or maybe a wrong opinion to have. Regwardless of that, Ignatius knew almost nothing of the young demonhunter in front of him - assuming he was, indeed, a youngin and not an old geezer befallen by a curse or perhaps a blessing - but he'd soon find out, maybe, if he inquired hard enough. "That's all you're concerned about? I'm sure we can find lodging that will be paid for by one monastery or the other, doesn't matter which one, you did save me after all and my life alone should be enough to earn you some sort of thanks, in any way. And I know where I am going and have some spare coin on me, what is your point? I'm not completely lost like you insist I am.", he grumbled. Of course not, he was Ignatius of Vlafast after all and not some sort of toddler that needed constant supervision. "Human or demonhunter, that does not matter to me. What are your rules, then? Aside from, I presume, not wearing these colors."

"Why would I believe in a god who lets all of this happen? The demon infestation, the slaughtering of those who never hurt anyone? Who never sinned, to say it in your words? Even if a god exists, he is cruel and I don't see why I should put my faith in someone like that.", Azrael argued. What did god ever do for anyone? His father had been very religious and he died protecting a so called holy place. No god saved him and when the church struggled to gain back control of the region, they killed Azraels mother and would have possibly done that same to him. Them being slaughtered by demon the same night was almost fitting, but even those wretched creatures didn't make a difference between innocent and not, between child and murderer. "How can you be a member of a church and not know what they do? You're odd... if only for the fact that you don't want my head for my blasphemous words right away. Then again, as long as I'm useful, right...?" Maybe he did Ignatius wrong, but either way, no church was truly good, at least Azrael had never heard of one. "Do you think I'm joking?"

Azrael moved on and found a suitable path through the woods. He rarely liked traveling on actual roads, but for the priests sake, maybe they should, especially if they wanted to reach that monastery before nightfall. Azrael knew this area and these woods, yet he didn't know their destination. Not only did he usually keep away from any holy places, some of the monasteries were hidden, so neither demons nor knights of another faith might find it. North was a vague description, Azrael wanted to keep going a bit further, get back to the road after maybe another hour and then hopefully Ignatius knew where to go from there. "I'm not insisting, I'm asking. Are you aware that your faith isn't welcome everywhere? We'll eventually leave the jurisdiction of your church. Then you or we will be on our own." Azrael suddenly stopped and turned around, procuring a little bag from one of his pockets. He threw it in Ignatius direction. The bag was filled with herbs, but easily fit in any pocket. It was closed with two leather bands which also made it so one could bind the bag on to something. Most priests would denounce this as black magic, if Ignatius was closed minded like that, he could find another idiot to follow him. Azrael wanted to be as save on the road as possible, especially with the accompanying army lost already. "Carry this on you at all times. It conceals your scent to any demons. It'll make it harder for them to find and follow us."

"You ... why are you telling all of this to me anyway? Do you not fear that I would persecute you, or perhaps rat you out to my brethren?", he questioned eventually, unsure of what this was about in the first place. Why was this man so confident in his abilities in the first place, so obsessed with making things right, go his way? Surely, that couldn't be why he volunteered secrets just like - what sane man would go about his life like that? No god, no, no heathen would act like this in the presence of a holy man, and yet, there wasn't even a tinge of sadness in this voice as he received information that, while perhaps beneficial to his own life, wouldn't last him long. There had been things he'd been taught, some of which he deemed less important than others, but alas, it wasnt so, was it now? For one, he could blame anyone, but for the other occasion Ignatius couldn't even say he was surprised by how a heathen acted. "Who said that? Faith is important to have, surely, but that doesn't mean that we do not have any need for people like you. If it's up to me, all of you can believe in whatever you want - I might be strangely opinionated compared to other priests if I judge by your words, but it's not like I can make you believe in something you are not interested in with just my words. Maybe that's were I fail as a priest.", the redhead replied with a shrug of his shoulders. Non-believers would eventually find out what they missed out on, by why judge someone like a lowly demonhunter?

His legs followed suit, even as they started hurting eventually - they weren't used to the trek, something that he'd been aware of anyway, and yet, did he complain? No. They had to get out of here, with a shred of knowledge of where to go, and if only to deliver him to his destination of the next monastery, so be it - he was going to get tired, but that still meant he was inexpierenced, maybe even lost for the lack of a better word and truthfully what was he to do? Stay and complain? What a stupid idea. "I can deal. If they want to have a word with me, so be it, but I surely don't want to attract unwanted attention. I'm at least that aware.", Ignatius made clear, and he could rid himself of these robes if that meant he got something similarly comfortable to slip into - and if not, then he'd have something more to complain about. What a joyous idea that was. As Azrael came up with another idea, Ignatius looked at him, taken somewhat aback, with his eyebrows raised, as a mixture of floral herbs was quick to announce itself to his nostrils. Why not use a simple protection spell? The effect would perhaps be the same, but if that meant he'd be free of answering any questions, then he'd still accept it - with a sigh, he took ahold of the small bag and stuffed it into his own. "Didn't think you'd be into herbal remedies. Alright, I'm settled. Is that good enough?"