faithbound. [marquis & Earinor]

Fighting came with death, it were two sides of the same coin. There were plenty people dead in that overrun village and Ignatius didn't care, now he did, because it were his own people? Azrael wasn't heartless, but he knew how to choose his battles, that why he was still alive and amongst the older ones when it came to hunters. Most died young, after only a few years in the business. In the end Azrael knew there was no point risking his life in a battle he couldn't win, it made much more sense to stay alive and keep fighting against those demons, saving other people he could actually help. Sure it wasn't easy, but it was necessary and overall more helpful than rushing headfirst into danger. Ignatius was like a child and it was tiring. Azrael also doubted there would be much he was willing to learn. He wasn't as stuck up as his peers, but in turn he was reckless, childish and inconsiderate. Azrael wanted to get some rest, to have the strength to face the next day. It didn't look good for the monestary they were headed to, they'd need another plan.

Another plan proved to be unnecessary a few hours later though. Azrael woke from his light sleep when he noticed the air shifting. He was awake in a split second, grabbing one of his powder bags to figure out if there were demons nearby. Usually there was a spark, today he burnt the tip of his finger and it was enough to make him jump up. He stepped over to where Ignatius was sleeping quickly, and shook him. "Wake up, we need to go, now.", he whispered and was already grabbing what he could to stuff it in their bags. There wasn't much time and Azrael even contemplated leaving the horse, in case it was too loud. Maybe it drew attention to them. There was a powerul demon around, once noticed, there was probably no use in trying to run. Right as he was about to grab Ignatius to get out of here, Azrael saw a spark from the corner of his eye. He dropped the bag he held and unsheathed his sword. The impact following vibrated through his whole body and he flew a few meters until his back hit one of the trees. Caughing he crashed to the floor. "Impressive, you blocked my attack.", a female voice started to speak with a slight chuckle. "Well that might have given you a few more seconds to live, not that it matters."

When Azrael woke him up, Ignatius thought nothing of it - there were no visions that made him jolt awake in cold sweat and there was no belated realization that they had walked right into a demons nest, so to speak. Maybe it had been optimistic of them to remain in place and spend their time on a well-meant rest instead of forcing any sort of distance between them and their assailants, or getting to that monastery on the horizon that didn't seem like it would be able to house either of them for any more time than the other one already had. Ignatius needed to continue and push on, even if Azrael wouldn't be by his side, but like this, it was dangerous and the moment he was forced to wake up, he realized that travelling alone would simply get him killed the first night, no matter how haughty and sure he was of his capabilities, he could only push his body so far, because in essence, he was still human and that meant that his brain needed to rest eventually, no matter the consequences of staying awake for prolonged periods of time like that. As he gathered his bearings and was about to complain about being woken up, there was palpable silence, safe for the clashing of smithed steel.

Fights, especially this early, were of no concern to him and he felt like he could ignore it, were it not for the fact that Azrael proved to be, well ... no match for the creature that had taken it upon herself to attack them. A prissy demoness, then? Ignatius could only wonder, but by the time he was up, his travelling companion had already been flung into a tree, as if he were some sort of ragdoll that, by all accounts, was nothing more than cannon fodder to what they were facing. Well, didn't they mean it was his time to shine? Before he could even think about it, he'd raised the knife he'd been given by Azrael before and used the opportune moment to sneak up on her, though, maybe that in itself was stupid, or he was simply trying to fight a fight that wasn't his. Clearly, that didn't seem to be enough and Ignatius himself was about to be equally swatted like a fly, not knowing the first thing about combat anyway - the tree against his own back felt like it would never yield to the pressure applied to it, but unfortunately, Ignatius was as daring as he was stupid when he got up. "You demons are one annoying bunch."

Azraels body hurt, he wasn't sure what they were up against, but they certainly were no match. Ignatius landed close to him soon enough, still having a big mouth. This idiot didn't seem to understand in what shitty situation they found themselves in. Was it smart or in any way helpful to just stay put? Now not at all, so he couldn't even fault Ignatius for getting back up. Azrael grabbed his sword and did the same. "I don't like being called a demon, I wasn't born in hell you see.", the apparently not demon chuckled. "A vampire then...", Azrael grumbled gritting his teeth. The fires of hell didn't burn in her eyes, but they were red rubies nontheless. She wasn't weaker for it either, depending on her age as well and on how hungry she was. Vampires only weakness over a demon was that they couldn't retreat to the hells when day came, they had to hide from the sun instead. In a way it made them more dangerous, because they knew more about humans and didn't underestimate them as much. Sometimes they even employed them.

"Good job little hunter.", she chuckled. "I know what you are, but you?" She looked at Ignatius, extending her own sword and let it stop right at his neck. "You might be dressed like a hunter, but you are clearly none. That little knife you got there is cute." She lifted his chin with the tip of her sword, for her it was bright as day, she had no troubles seeing him in the darkness of the night. "You look a bit too well fed for a peasant as well, you must be with the priests then, or maybe a little prince?" At least it seemed like her assumptions deterred her from believing that the two of them were worth much. Maybe this was a random attack here and had nothing to do with the attack on the caravan and the attempt to get whatever Ignatius carried. Not all demons worked together thankfully, maybe this vampire knew nothing about that. That might hurt them even more though, they couldn't really barter for their lives. Azrael gripped his sword harder, but with Ignatius in a bind like this, he couldn't savely make an attempt.

This was wrong, on many more levels than one. They had promised him greatness, for him to deliver himself unto the gods to receive word of how to save and purge this world of those that were, by no means, any lesser than the worst of them - and yet, demons longed to be eradicated, for they were not of gods design, and even when she foisted the label off of her, Azrael called her what she was. A schooled eye befitting of a hunter, then. Dealing with a vampire wasn't in his cards, not that he couldn't foil her, but in the darkness of the night, light was sparse, and the emergency wooden pillar for her heart was, if it even existed, in Azraels posession, which was something that Ignatius neither had rhyme nor understanding for. Maybe it would do them more good than harm if he was actually a hunter, but mayhaps it was better the way it was - should he simply give up without really having fought a battle? Or was all of this worth trying? He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, knowing that he was either dooming himself or Azrael, and that it mattered to few people what the two of them would do out here, as long as they fulfilled this stupid mission in the end.

Ignatius hissed as the sword almost pierced his skin, and her comment made his skin sting about equally as much. There was ... what could he even do? Backed into a bit of a corner, he was forced to face her head-on, or at least try and stare her down with an expression barely anyone would call sour, maybe it was more on the surprised side after all. "Cute? Are you trying to insult my pride?", he questioned her motives, wondering if he could make the moonlight do his bidding, though, in a forest deep and dark like this, it seemed impossible enough. "Not with that lot of priests, I can assure you that much.", Ignatius tried to keep it all a secret, as if anyone knowing more than they should would be a recipe for disaster. A vampire wouldn't benefit from such knowledge either way, and Ignatius wasn't keep on sharing with her. Well fed? Barely. It was more so that he had spent the better part of his life so far being forced to adjust to just about anything. A saint, yes, but that was that. Incidentally, he grabbed ahold of the blade, knowing it would cut his hand. "I would appreciate this ... thing, out of my face. And then how about you tell us what you want, assuming it's not our lives?"

Ignatius was an idiot and definitely didn't have the awareness of their current predicament. They didn't know how old this vampire was, but Azrael was sure that if she wanted, she could have killed them both already. Azrael blocked her attack in the very last second which was probably the only reason he was still alive, both of them actually, just because she found that funny. Fighting a vampire at night wasn't smart, but running seemed impossible too. While Ignatius was acting like a spoiled brat, Azraels hand that held his sword shook the slightest bit and yet he didn't back down, praying for any kind of opening that would allow him to stab her heart or behead her. He had some holy water as well, but it would mostly make her angry, if he even could get it out. Ignatius would have more of a chance probably, because she didn't take him seriously at all. "Someone like you truly has no reason to be prideful. All you humans are weak." She wasn't wrong there and yet Azrael thought that she wasn't involved in whatever was going on here. The village that burnt down was full of corpses, a vampire wouldn't just have slaughtered everyone there.

"A prince then? You do have the arrogance for it. And this is your bodyguard? Why would someone important travel with just one hunter?" The same reason they actually travelled only the two of them. Less prying eyes, less trouble, or so they thought. She looked at Azrael suddenly which made his hair stand on end, still he shot her a determined and angry glance. "If I let you live, would you just back down and let me take this one?", she asked with a chuckle. She was messing with them, if anything Azrael was just an inconvenience for her, she didn't need to bargain with them. Maybe Ignatius had something up his sleeve? I ray of sunshine maybe? "Why don't you just decide already if you want to kill us or not?", he spat at her and Ignatius didn't back down either. He grabbed the blade pointed at him, possibly willingly taking some cuts to make his point, but as soon as he tried to shove it away, the vampire swiftly moved it much more than Ignatius intended, slicing his hand in two. The moment the tip of her sword didn't point at Ignatius neck anymore however, Azrael also made a move. This was the only chance he'd get. He aimed straight for her heart, but she likewise turned sideways and all he did was graze her skin, leaving a bloody mark on her chest. She looked down at her torn clothes and skin, then giggled. "How interesting!" Azrael knew that this had been his one and only chance and yet he wasn't willing to give up. He tried to swing at her again, but she grabbed his arm and next he felt a punch in his stomach so hard he almost passed out from it. He coughed, dropped his sword and fell to his knees, trying to grasp for air. Meanwhile she turned to Ignatius again. "You two are coming with me."

If he was needing to be childish to get out of this, so be it, he'd do it; it wasn't that it mattered, for one, but he knew that no matter what him and Azrael did, they were sort of fucked either way. Was this how their journey would end? Hopefully not, he'd been so cozy up until now and wasting it on something like a dumb vampire that waltzed in and rained on their parade seemed almost like he as spiting the god that made him who he was in the first place. "I beg to differ." But that was all he had on account of that. Humans couldn't be prideful? Not all of them, but that was besides the point. Many of them were weak, and needed protection, just how many more of them needed to be soothed to actually understand that nothing in this world was out to harm them. Now, Ignatius wasn't in the need of soothing, he was in the need of a way out, and he needed to rid himself of this vampire in the quickest fashion possible, or else the noose around either of their necks would become tighter than he wanted it to be. Was this the brickwall they backed into by not hurrying up and rather spending time on making their differences known? He couldn't even blame Azrael, it seemed.

"Why would I need more than one?", he counteracted her argument swiftly, though, the next proposal seemed fiendish. "No, I still need him.", he grumbled, annoyed at her own arrogance, even while Az was trying to argue with her as well. There was this profound moment of having realized one too many times that something was wrong, and there also was the issue of them running out of time. A wave of pain, sharp and singing, was what he was met with as his hand was cut to ribbons and the other half of it, that which were not attached to his wrist, unceremoniously fell to the floor as Ignatius reached out to stop the bloodflow, but couldn't bite back and almost pathetic yelp at the sensation. What in gods name was that for? With blood dripping through the cracks and crevices of it all, he looked at what should have been bygones and wondered if, in actually, some of this was too much, or if he had done just the right thing, only to see Azrael fail, just like him. They both were shit out of luck in the shroud of the night, were they not? Still clutching the injury, he looked at her, the pain having yet to fully settle as his adrenaline started to run high. "And what if we don't? I don't fancy becoming nothing more than a bloodbag for you, and neither does he, I am sure.", he hissed, knowing that he was picking more of a fight than he honestly needed to.

"Do you now.", she sighed. "You talk a whole lot but really don't have anything to back it up." She wasn't wrong, even though Azrael hated to agree with a vampire. Ignatius didn't seem to understand in what position he was in, as if it was enough to talk big to get rid of a vampire. "For situations like this?", she laughed then rolled with her eyes. "I am not talking to you, prince." Azrael was the one whos loyalty she tested with her question, but he knew better than to answer her. There was no right or wrong answer and even though he really absolutely couldn't stand Ignatius, he'd not just sell him to someone of her likes, even for his own life. While Ignatius was still running his mouth despite half of his hand missing, Azrael was still heaving, trying to catch some air and wishing he would shut up already. "You think you have a choice?", she asked the priest laughing out loud. She grabbed Ignatius by his neck and lifted him into the air. "You must be the most dense person I ever met.", she remarked. "Maybe I should cut out your tongue."

Azrael looked up at both of them from behind her, trying to think of a way out of here. They could have done with a miracle right then and there. He knew he had no chance on his own, but Ignatius wasn't very reliable, nor did the hunter know what he could do in the first place. They should have gone through their skills together, but then again, Azrael wasn't very sure if he could rely on Ignatius. "Stay put little hunter. You'll be a fine knight in my court, but first I have to teach this one a lesson in humility." Azrael would kill himself before he became anything to this vampire who now pressed Ignatius against one of the trees. She came awfully close to him, pressing her knee against his crotch. "Are you perhaps too dumb to be scared? Let me feel your heart..." Her nails grew larger and sharp as a knife and she pressed them against Ignatius flesh, cutting it open as if it was nothing. She wormed her fingers inside the wound, bending and breaking the ribs that were in her way as if they were twigs until she cut actually touch Ignatius beating heart. She was able to hear it beat no matter what, but she did this anyway, feeling the rhythm and how it changed. "If I could have anything back from before I became a vampire, I'd wish it to be my heart." She had one, it was just still and unmoving, though if she had her wish, it would have beat like crazy right now, close to the rhythm she expected Ignatius heart to beat in right now. She felt the pumping against her two fingers. "The best is when it goes still however." And with that she sank her sharp teeth into Ignatius neck, taking a big gulp of his blood, then another. Azrael got up, but there wasn't much he could do without killing Ignatius in the process. She took another big gulp, more and more, then suddenly made a gurgling noise. "Ugh... what....?!", she yelled, quickly taking a step back from Ignatius, letting go of him completely. "What is this?!", she yelled, clenching her stomach as she fell to her knees. "What have you done?!" Azrael didn't know more than she did. She started to retch as if her body rejected the blood she just drank. Still, however weak she looked just now, Azraels instincts told him that she was still too strong to try and kill her. Instead he rushed past her to Ignatius, who didn't look too good. As soon as he reached him he pressed his hand against the wound on his chest and tried to catch his gaze. "Can you run?"

Ignatius grit his teeth as she grabbed him and hoisted him around like a sack of potatoes - it was wrong to believe something was going to change because he tried to be diplomatic, but in essence, this had been what he was taught. A lesson in humility, to be nice and courteous no matter whom he encountered, but unfortunately for him, most creatures of the deep dark night and children of hell would see it as plain arrogance when a mere human - so weak and useless, not unlike their own spawn - tried to reason with them, or find an achievable common ground. Ironically, he paid the price for his misdeeds and -givings, hissing at the vampiress as she lifted him up high by his aching neck, causing every single movement of his to ache uncomfortably, painfully so. “I’m not going to beg for my life.”, he reprimanded her through grit teeth, bracing for the impact that, soon enough, would’ve swept him off his feet, were he not being held up as all of this was happening. His heart still beat, but it upped the ante without him permitting it to - in the end, he was simply human and the agonizing pain, as flesh and bone gave way to a vampires brute strength was all that he could feel, unable to escape.

His saving grace seemed to be her stupidity and insatiable nature; his heartbeat rang in his ears as another wave of singing pain was introduced to his body. By now, it felt almost as if it was radiating, from one part of his body to another, with too many spots out of order and in peril to even pinpoint a single place where it hurt the most. Her sharp teeth caused Ignatius to gasp in pain - he was done with all that roughhousing and even then, knew that he couldn’t lose his composure, as it would be the first sign of weakness. Instead, he bit back all the noises and yelps that wanted to escape him, much like the wave of crimson goodness that left his chest and hand in droves, and now, his neck was the next spot it trickled from - at least this one was getting lapped up. Fearing his end, and the end to this mission, he was about to just leave it at that, when he was finally send falling to his knees and heard yelling, something that sounded almost incomprehensible to him by now, as his head started stuffing itself with cotton. That, in a way, was music to his ears, and a bit of a smile was spreading on his lips, before he felt another hand against his skin, and looked up - he was clearly ever so slightly delirious. “I … yeah, I think so.” Getting out of here was a priority. His non-cut-up hand grabbed Azraels, helping himself up with it and the tree against his back - this would probably be a while. “Let’s leave. Now.”

Even in this light Azrael could see how pale Ignatius was. His hand thatgrabbed Azraels had a weak grip and was slightly shaking. Azrael was doing slightly better, he was defiently still up to run, but the priest was a bit too heavy to carry him altogether. Their horse had ran off by now, with most of their belongings, which was bad. Running from a vampire wasn't easy either and there was not telling for how long she'd be knocked to her knees. He was sure the burning village and possible monestary wasn't her doing, maybe running there and pitting them against each other wasn't a bad idea instead of running simply through the forest without a goal. Additionally she'd probably had a hard time entering the actualy cathedral inside. They didn't know how bad it looked there though. Azrael had to decide fast, Ignatius already got himself up with Azraels help and the hunter grabbed his arm to put it around his shoulder to help him move. He already started to pull him ahead.

The forest here was a bit too dense to pass comfortably. Tiny branches snapped into their faces and the ground wasn't exactly level. Hopfeully that would slow her down as well, but the fact that Ignatius was actively bleeding would make it easy for her to follow his scent. Like a dog she'd be able to sniff them out, their only hope was evading anyone until the sun came out. Still Azrael decided to head for the monestary, hoping that the chaos there and possibly blood of other poor souls would cover them at least for a bit. There was no knowing what was going on there, but it was better than a vampire on an open field, of that he was sure. It was getting louder the closer they got, hotter too, due to the flames. The woods covered them for a bit before they reached the tall walls that had been destroyed by something big and yet Azrael stuck to his plan. He shortly let go of Ignatius to climb up on some dibree, then offered his hand to help him up and inside. "If we make it to the cathedral, we might make it through the night...", he finally shared his plan, a bit out of breath himself. There was still fighting going on, but not much and he doubted any civilians were around anymore, there were no screams. They either also made it to the cathedral, or they were aleady dead. There was hoping the demons didn't get in, not all of them were affected by holy symbols, but a vampire very much was and Azrael was more worried about her than anyone else.

With Az help, at least they moved for a bit and then made it to the town - it didn't look in any state to receive visitors, but what town ever did theye days? Ignatius was painfully sure that it didn't matter, as much as the wounds on his body hardly did, and no matter how far he pushed himself, this, among other things, really was only a minor setback that kept him in check of his mortality, making sure that he knew that even he, of all people, was not going to survive the onslaught of a thousand minor demons, or one really powerful one. These beasts weren't all the same, and he wondered how it could be that his blood had not singed her the first time she came in contact with it, but maybe that was because of her outward human nature, unlike any traditional demon, who was but a creature of the hells. "Thanks for ... everything, really.", he finally relented in his stubborn ways as Azrael brought them closer to where they wanted to be, even if their mile long run seemed almost sluggish in its own way. How long until they reached anywhere, really? His head wasn't exactly held up high for this one, even when he felt like he was one healing spell away from greatness.

Once they made it out the woods, Az let go of him and Ignatius let himself sink against some parts of the destroyed wall for a bit - it was nice and cold, which helped his burning body regulate itself, or at least Ignatius thought it did, only to be pulled back out of his stupor by a helping hand that offered him a way to hop over the debris himself. Was this all that was left of this smoldering place? No, there was something else going on, faintly, in the distance, and it seemed far off, hard to even hear with those ears of his. "We should ... book it ... there then ...", he gasped for air, his heart sputtering tensely in his exposed chest, the cocoon of flesh and bone barely holding any of it back. His hear needed mending, as needed his flesh, and Ignatius was more than happy to provide himself with such things the moment they made it to safety. Before he could even think about resting, they were on the move again, stalking through torn alleyways and past flames, away from the fighting, out the sea of flames, into the cathedral which still seemed to stand proud where it once had been, even if it was worse for wear. Churches were like a sanctuary to many of them, but he knew that Azrael disliked them for his own reasons - he was not meant to pry, and instead, simply followed him suit, before they let themselves in through a small back door. The moment they did so, Ignatius sank to the ground. "I ... should heal. Ugh ..."

Ignatius was clearly not looking so good, he even started to sound honest when he thanked Azrael. "Not out of the woods yet..." Metaphorically that was. Azrael wasn't good at receiving thanks and now was not the time to be sentimental. Ignatius needed a break, some bandages and probably some healing. But first they made their way through the back alleys and towards the cathedral. Interestingly enough the back door was unguarded and open, so they slipped inside. Azrael was weary about this, but they had nowhere else to go. He lost his grip on Ignatius who sank to the floor. Azrael looked at him. "Mhm, do that, I'll quickly check around.", he told him, going back to the door they used to enter first. He locked it, even thought of moving something in front, but he wasn't sure yet if they had to abandon this somewhat save place. "Are you going to be okay?", he wanted to make sure, but before he could help he wanted to check the other door, that lead to the main hall.

Azrael pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear if there was anything behind it, but it was earily silent. The door was cold, so at the very least it didn't burn on the other side. He left it for now and walked over to Ignatius to check on him, pulling his scarf from his neck. It wasn't the cleneast it could be, but he grabbed the bleeding half missing hand and wrapped it around for now as he kneeled down before him. He lost enough blood when the vampire drank from him and on the way here. "Seems quiet outside... we might be save here until dawn." And then? Azrael didn't have a plan yet. Maybe there were some things left to plunder in this place, food and water. They'd also need to get some distance during the day, but first they needed to survive the night. With Ignatius this beat and tired, he wasn't sure how well his healing would work. "Don't exhaust yourself too much, we can stop the bleeding and worry about the rest later." Azrael also turned Ignatius head a bit to check the bite wound the vampire left on his neck. She didn't let up very gracefully.

With all that blood flowing out of his body, even someone like Azrael would probably look haggard eventually. Pressing the issue didn't help, however, he knew that dallying about was as stupid of an idea as it could be as well. No matter the reason, he figured, he'd stay here for a while, regroup and rest a bit, and then find that nothing was as harsh as being burdened with having the arrogance of a king and the power of a god, while being about as knowledgable about combat as a toddler with a knife in its grasp. Right. Ignatius was a fool, one that should have been glad that his head hadn't been plucked from his shoulders; the searing hot pain that settled into the core of his very being was enough to call home that he'd overdone it by a lot, and any margin of rationalization was out of place at this very moment, wasn't it? "I'll ... be fine ... 'tis but a test of strength for my arrogance.", he fessed up, and he knew that the beads of colds sweat that ran down his face were there for a reason. In the end, they were all the same, all of them foolish and human, and Azrael was truly the one of the two that seemed like he had better bearings of the world around him.

"I overdid it. I think ... I get it now ...", he murmured, no longer haughty and convinced of his own strength - the moment that Azrael came closer, he knew that he had nothing to fear for, but he hissed at the sensation of the fabric against the wound, even as it dripped and thrummed. Ugh, he needed to heal this even if he was exhausted, or the pain that bore itself deep into his veins and nerves would keep him awake all night. Why him? This was the price to pay for arrogance, he understood it, now more than ever. "Think so ...?" With his whole hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed against it, to alleviate some of his pain as Azrael looked at him, from head to toe. "I'm going to be exhausted ... whether I do it now ... or tomorrow.", he explained himself, but if he couldn't even muster the strength to cast any sort of spell, he'd be shit out of luck and asking Az for help in that regard would probably not be in his cards either. Witzh his head turned, he trempled, the pain of his flesh stretching and pulling unable to snap him back quite yet. "How bad is it? I'm not going to turn into one, am I?" A saint being a creature of the night would be quite the hindrance.

Ignatius didn't look very good, but Azrael didn't want to move out of here anyway, not when he could help it. He wasn't sure if this little room in the back of the cathedral was enough to hold off a vampire, there was but a tiny cross in here, but for now it was enough. Once Ignatius was taken care of, he culd check more rooms, maybe they could hide further in or by the altar. At the very least this would show Ignatius that he wasn't invincible and that fighting demons was no game. It only took a second for a situation to turn sour like this, especially when they ran into situations headless. Given, not even Azraels caution has helped them avoid that vampire, but they wouldn't have been much saver in here. Azrael was above lecturing Ignatius about it all, or telling him he had been right all along, he just kept his thoughts to himself while he tied his scarf around his hand so it would stop the bleeding for now.

"Everyone else might already be dead..." It was a bit too quiet for his tastes if he was honest, but he kept that thought to himself. "I'm just saying maybe leave the fully healing to dawn. Stop the bleeding, the broken ribs and missing fingers can wait." Azrael wasn't sure how capable Ignatius was in the first place. Either way, some of Azraels ribs were surely bruised if not broken as well, but he also knew it wouldn't kill him. He rather had them both be able to run still, in case they had to. "No, you'd need to drink her blood in order to start the transformation and then even still, it can be reversed for as long as you don't drink any human blood. That wasn't what she was after though anway.", he explained, hopefully calming Ignatious nerves a bit. "Her poison should be gone in a day, then even if you were subjected to vampire blood, nothing would happen to you." Azrael looked around a bit, eventually got up and went to a table that was housing some candlesticks. He got rid of them, he was after the fabric underneath which he took and brought back to press it against Ignatius neck, wiping some of the blood away to get a better look. "What did you do to her anyway?"

Ugh, he was about to be sick if this went on - his head was spinning and Ignatius was convinced that it would fall off of his shoulders if he kept this pace and allowed himself to be treated like a headless toddler by Azrael. Why was he this naive and culpable, stupid even? There was no drive, no understanding in his bones about any of this and it hurt him to even have to think about the very real possibility of a setback like that, one that would haunt him for way too long. As he was instructed, he’d have to weave the healing magic into his body to stop the bleeding, like a fine threat that was to he inserted into a needle, but his hands were trembling and grabbing ahold of what would be the fabric of time mending his wounds seemed impossible, even if he only were to use it as a metaphorical blanket to dress his wounds with. “I … expected as much. It’s not like there’s a lot of noise left, out there or anywhere.”, he realized, even through his own muddled hearing and leaned his head back, to hopefully calm himself. This had done him in, hadn’t it? So close, yet so far from death, dancing on a line.

“I’m trying.” A very capable mage was what he was, blessed with the overflowing power of a god, able to cast the strongest of spells for just a minor setback in exchange, but right now, even the most minor incantation was fucking with his brain, mushy and splattered all across what seemed to be the blood he lost as he sat there, on the ground that was usually so beneath him. “Just wanted to teach me a lesson for my arrogance and have dinner, I assume. Or kill me, then.” To be immortal and blessed by the night would be but something he could fancy, and yet, still, it seemed wrong to even consider. Ignatius, with all his flaws, existed for humanity, not against it, and by that, any kind of temptation in a different direction was to be punished - to not have him sway into a wrong direction was an ultimate goal, lest he would not be able to nurture this waking world in the very end when he had to rebuild it. “That’s … somewhat reassuring …”, he huffed and, finally, with weary fingers, grabbed ahold of that cleansing magic fabric he had been trying to weave and used it to fix the hole above his beating heart. Right, after that, the neck Azrael was taking care of was next, and the broken ribs he’d have to heal when he was in better shape and not bathed in sweat, come the morning. Ignatius groaned in pain, his vision still blurry - he yearned for food, for once. “What? Ah … Well … I didn’t do much. My blood is … I think … like if you straight up … hah. Drink very … very concentrated holy water …”

There was no one left, they also didn't see many corpses on the way though, which wasn't exactly reassuring. He doubted all of them made it in here, if anyone. He wasn't sure if this place fended off anybody. Maybe a random house would have been saver, not from the vampire though. "I want to check further in, we'd be saver there from this vampire at least." But if the demons broke in and followed any survivors to the core of this place, they'd be trapped as well. Azrael shut his mouth, Ignatius looked like he was trying to concentrate. "She might have taken us with her... I don't think she is involved in this battle though. Probably tried to figure out who messed with her territory..." Which is why he hoped they were saver there. Whoever ransacked this place might not be pleased to have her around and vice versa. Not all demons worked together after all. Quite the opposite sometimes. They might even fight over whatever Ignatius was carrying, just because they wanted to shine over others.

Ignatius hand started to glow slightly as he held it above his own chest. Azrael also removed the cloth from his neck, where Ignatius continued. The glow stopped and Ignatius groaned. He was pushing himself by using up his magic too. For now he should at least survive. "Huh? Why...? I've never heard of that before." Certainly other priests didn't have holy blood or whatever. Was it his inert magic he inherited from his paladin of a father maybe? Or... "You're not carrying any artifact, do you...?", he asked. Not that it mattered right now and he didn't expect an answer either, instead he got up and walked back to the bigger door that lead further into the cathedral. "I'm just checking the surroundings a bit. I won't be long." At least he had his sword still and some of his powders and trinkets, which didn't glow or spark, so for now there weren't any demons close. He slipped out soon enough and closed the door behind him, just to check around a bit. it seemed save, albeit too open for his liking. There was blood, but he didn't find any corpses, or demons. In the middle of the cathedral was a huge black spot as if something exploded there. He didn't look at it too closely, he didn't like the big partly broken windows around either. It seemed like they burst from the inside to the outside. Suddenly the ground was shaking, it almost knocked Azrael off his feet. They couldn't have any breather, could they now? He wasn't sure what was going on, but he hurried back to Ignatius.

Ignatius felt like he was twitching and moving uncomfortably under the pressure of his own skull and bones, and he itched to free himself of what he found himself enraptured by, and yet, Azrael was the one that spoke with amicable words about how all of this, hopefully, would give them a shelter from her - the vampiress hot on their heels - while they clawed to a last bastion of hope. Not a single soul was left in this charcoal town, burned to crisp and ash hours before they even set foot into it, oh, he was sure of it. Even still, he had tried his best, his utmost to appeal to both his and Azraels better judgement when he made the call to his opinions, and to not give up immediately, just like his companion did. "Taken us ... with her?", he sputtered, trying to regain his composure as air felt like it was getting lesser and lesser, as his lungs felt like they were uncomfortably compressed in his chest, either by an enlarged heart or liver, but there was no such things. Ignatius knew he was in order, picture-perfect as ever could be, and he wouldn't make it out alive under some whacky pretense if he didn't keep his head high.

With his chest rising and falling, he exerted even the last bit of magic he could muster in that state of his, weaving parts of his hand back together, even while he knew that he was already doing too much. The question, regarding the artifact, was ignored - he simply swallowed deeply, the elephant in the room no longer something he could ignore as his heart was pounding in his chest. Coming clean, right about now, was probably the smartest move he could make, just to gain footing and trust, but he let Az venture off instead, biting back a pained choke as he at least sealed the wound of his severed hand, lest he'd be carrying the scent of sweat and blood deep into the dampness of the church, should they find a better spot. Before he could do more, or even get rid of the rosary of beaded sweat across his forehead, the ground below him started shaking, and the hunters footsteps scurried back to their small sanctuary. It was, almost as if by some cruel flick of fate, that the moment he set his eyes on Azrael, the floor gave in beneath their feet and Ignatius, already rid of his composure, screamed in surprise, before something hard stopped their fall inevitably. The cellar, then? This didn't bode well, but among all the grumbling and groaning, he was mainly fine, if a bit weak on the legs and arms and knees - getting up felt like a chore, one he could simply not deal with as he tried. "Azrael?", he coughed among the dust and debris that had been conjured up. Where was any of this going to lead?

One could only guess what it meant to be taken by a vampire. She might have used them for her amusement or simply for food, either way he rather didn't find out. Ignatius was beat and tired, Azrael was too, but he was still fine. Once he ran back however, to not leave Ignatius alone when the earth was shaking the floor gave way as soon as he opened the door. Suddenly there was nothing underneath him and nothing to hold on to. The fall was short-lived however as he harshly landed on some stone. There was dust everywhere and Azrael coughed a bit. He heard Ignatius call his voice. "I'm okay.", he told him and forced himself on his feet. This day was going horribly. There was rubble everywhere and it was dark in here. The dust didn't settle yet either, but Azrael made it over some big rocks to find Ignatius on the floor. "Everything alright?", he asked. It was not, but as long as he wasn't crushed by falling rocks it would be enough.

Before he could even think of finding some form of light source however, the floor shook again. Instinctively he held on to Ignatius as they fell once more. The floor first cracked, then gave way a bit, then after a moment fully collapsed. Azrael once more didn't land gracefully and the floor beneath them was uneven. He grunted a bit as his body hit the floor. As he looked up he could see some light that emanated from the moon and stars maybe, only for it to get darker. He yanked Ignatius towards himself, who he still held, only for some rocks land where he was just moments ago. With it the light also vanished completely and the dust had nowhere much to go. Azrael coughed. What was this place even? Catacombs? That would make sense beneath a cathedral at the very least. Hopefully it didn't end up their tomb. From his coat he pulled out some powder he lit by snapping it between his fingers. It wouldn't burn for long, but it gave them a few seconds of light to look around. He didn't see much more than rubble on first glance though. Well at least the vampire wouldn't find them here. Every single bone inside of him hurt and yet, could they really afford taking a break? How much air did they have? Additionally they didn't have any water or food. They needed to find a way out of here, but he doubted Ignatius made it very far and he himself also somewhat needed a break. The light went out and they found themselves in complete darkness again.

All of this was too much - Ignatius wanted the basement of the church to be their last vestige, but what followed afterward was a warm embrace from someone that definitely didn’t need to hold him so tight, let alone care for him in any capacity. Regardless, however, he found it to be punishment for his own hubris as soon as they hit another painfully hard ground - he should have never left wherever he’d been born, he was too weak and tired for a journey like this, even when he knew that was hardly the truth. Putting himself down for the sake of making himself feel better wasn’t Ignatius usual style, but the longer this went on, the more miserable he felt - not even Azrael seemed to be able to do anything about it and the short moment of respite was ripped to shreds by another wave of falling debris, this time seemingly sealing off their exit and their outside light source for … good? Ignatius wasn’t even sure if anything out there was good to begin with, and if it was, if he could justify digging himself out of the cloying, sickening darkness at this point. Nothing, none of this really, needed to happen and yet it did. Was this a test or simply punishment?

By now, he coughed all the dust out of his lungs and flung himself out of the secure grasp, against a rugged wall, searching for support as their only form of restoring visibility down here, a small flame from one of Az’ knickknacks, flickered to light. Their situation seemed dire enough that even a prayer wouldn’t fix it, and if he had the muse for it, he’d use his powers to dig them out of here, right now, he found himself spent however. “I’m okay.”, he whispered as the darkness swallowed them again. Ignatius was trembling, either because of said obstacle or because he was tired, terribly so, and couldn’t help himself anymore when it came down to it. No matter what, he was done with it all, he was spent, in fact, and just sank to his knees for a moment, retching at the mere thought. “I need … a quick break …”, he informed Az and with a loud thud, hit his head against the catacomb walls. Once, then twice, while clasping his hands in front of him like some sort of prayer, whispering in tongues - he was sweaty, he was worn, and all above that, he was fearful and their earlier discussion was forgotten. “This is … all my fault. You have … my sincerest apologies.” A raise in Azrael’s pay stub was in order. “We should rest … if this place is … ugh. Anything like the one I’m used to, we probably can get out of here through the sewers come morning.”, he suggested. “Do you need light?”

Did Azrael want to know what caused this earthquake? No, not at all and yet he couldn't just ignore it. He wanted to know what they were up against to know what to look out for, but even he was beat after the last day and this eventful night. Ignatius' voice sounded hoarse and trembling. As Azrael suspected, he wasn't as tough as he wanted to be and not cut out for this. He wouldn't nag him about it, he was hurt and tired. "It's fine, just sit down.", Azrael told him through the darkness, hearing a thud and some whispers. Was he praying? He was a priest after all, even though Azrael doubted it would help them. Well if they made it out of here alive, priests had this way about them, telling others they only made it because of the gods, even though others did the hard work of actually solving the problem. Whatever, it didn't matter. Azrael started to feel up the rocks. He felt a waft of air, not fresh, but air nonetheless. They should probably rest here, but he wanted to make sure they wouldn't suffocate in their sleep because they ran out of air.

"How so?", Azrael asked. "You didn't summon a vampire onto us, that was just bad luck. I doubt she was after... your artefact." It was him, wasn't it? Azrael didn't want to discuss this now and he didn't care much, so he just acted as if he bought Ignatius version still. "If it's magic you're offering, no. You should rest. We'll need all the strength we can muster soon enough..." Azrael made his own frickle light once he thought he found a good spot that lead to a bigger chamber. There were in fact some bones and skulls around, but he ignored them, shoving some stones out of the way with his free hand. He didn't intend to make a hole big enough to crawl through just yet, in fact he preferred this somewhat closed off space for now. Morning would come and they'd be a bit saver, but for the rest of the night Ignatius was too exhausted to keep going and Azrael intended to rest up a bit as well. The saver their hideout the better. There was some more air flowing into their little space soon enough and Az lined the entrance with some powder that would keep lesser demons out at least. Then he sank to his knees as well and let out a sigh. "We should both rest for a bit." Not for too long though, they at least needed to find some water eventually, drinkable water. Azrael leaned against the rocks. This wasn't at all comfortable, but he was used to it. Before he committed to some sleep however, he once again raised his voice. "Are you going to be okay?" Not that he could make this anymore pleasant for him. They didn't have their sleeping bags or even a blanket. "You can have my coat if you're cold."

Ignatius was spent, he knew as much, and he was done with all of this. Crying and throwing a tantrum about spilled milk wasn't his style, but right now, he felt like giving up might as well be a neat decision he could make if only he wasn't cursed with his own existence. To be a simple priest carrying and artifact, like he acted he was, would be a saving grace in this situation, even though he knew that he was none of that. It tugged at him, nurtured itself on the fact that he was trapped, and he just did as Azrael told him, letting his head hang low. Ignatius wanted to wash himself clean of sin and be as radiant as he ever was, but right now, he found himself despairing, in this odd moment of weakness. "I ... ugh." He bit back a grunt of pain when he was trying to talk out of his ass again and noticed that, maybe, now was a good time to come clean, and actually follow through with all the promises he'd made. Was this still about pride and money and other things? Maybe none of this mattered, in fact, it was maybe even smarter to bank on his own death sometime soon, then Az would be free and rich and the world was somehow still doomed. A painful relaization settled in his gut as he tried to just ignore all the warning signs for what they were.

"It's not magic, it's my blood.", he clarified his intentions. If it was holy enough to burn a vampire, it was most likely holy enough to ignite with the same frevor as he always did it, and Ignatius was happy to simply cut himself open once more and offer the sanguine droplets to have some sort of sight advantage in these catacombs. Ignatius took a deep breath as Azrael at least offered them some air and felt bad immediately - he took the rosary around his neck off, wrapped it around his torn hand and held it tight to his chest, as if that was to do anything. His lord wouldn't help him here, in fact, he knew that he might as well be blessed by them, but there was nothing he could do - he was a child of their own design and therefore powerful enough to help himself. "I'd appreciate some rest.", Ignatius murmured, kissing the rosary in his hand with fervor, then continuing to rub it through his hand, moving it on and on with little noise. "No, I ... appreciate the gesture but you should rest as comfortably as you can yourself. I'll make do. Thank you." What a clarification - even the highest and mightiest of them would eventually take the fall of grace, would they not? Ignatius seemed to be learning a lesson, at least. "I ... before we sleep. I'd like to apologize. I wasn't upfront. This is another can of worms, and I can explain when we have time, we should rest, but ... there's no artifact. You're right. I'm ... well, I am the artifact, in a way. My existence is enough to attract any sort of demonspawn. I apologize for the deceiving you."