faithbound. [marquis & Earinor]

Ignatius didn't even know half of Azraels story, but he didn't feel like telling him either. The truth was that the church didn't just abandon him and his mother, they actively were at fault for her death. He could only speculate what plans they had for him and he'd been angry for a very long time, yet never returned to that place. He didn't know what happened after that night, if anyone still lived there, if they survived or died like they deserved. He was probably afraid to know and just travelled further and further away from it, searching for work elsewhere. The reasons he pried into Ignatius past was mainly because he still tried to figure out what to do in case they did make it out of here and to some village or monastery. He was dead set on abandoning him into someone elses care only a day ago, because he couldn't stand him and his arrogance, but he was allowed to change his mind. Right now he had no clue what to do and he also wasn't sure if he could protect him all by himself.

"Let's just focus on the way out.", he mumbled with a slight sigh. The X was right there and Azrael started to try and pull and push, but it didn't seem to be a button o some sort. "It's on a stone plate, but the plate doesn't move.", he reported back. "Maybe you should take a look." With that he walked back to Ignatius so he'd have some light as well and not trip over anything. Together they walked back to the spot Azrael found and he showed him the stone plate that looked somewhat out of place. While everything else was lined with bones or intricate mason work, this plate was pretty plain aside from the X on it. "It emanates some magic, so I assume it can be activated with it? Makes more sense too, if only people of the church can activate it, right?", he asked, meanwhile he also looked around a bit. "This won't be a trap right? If you do it wrong?" Nothing that looked like spikes would jump out to pierce and kill them, or rocks falling on their head, but if it was a magical trap he wouldn't know.

Not knowing about his subjects was the first mistake he could make, and in fact, it was better Azrael wasn't one of them. Why care now, and actually, why give a damn at all? This would shape up to be nothing more than another disappointment for both of them and the realization came in droves, deep and sickening, that overall, he was only escaping the inevitable. Ignatius had already told Azrael what lay beyond the dreams end, awaiting him in the wake of this slumbering world, and if he was frank, he wouldn't miss it, either. Hardly had he lived these past twenty years and then some, not for himself, but in the shadow of someone elses greatness. Trudging through this mausoleum told him one thing: Death was a friend, one that you greeted with open arms at the end of your journey, and if it were not for the inevitability of his own sacrifice into ghastly immortality, he'd have welcomed it, too, but not now, when he was still mortal and prone to mistakes, when his mere existence was but something not yet carved into stone but actually taken apart by himself. "You're right." Sorry for the trouble, or something along those lines.

Were he not like this, Ignatius figured he'd still be a paladin, in the service of the church, or a priest himself, not haughty or arrogant, but maybe bitter about having failed to prove himself to others and the church. "That's peculiar, sounds like magic." Which also meant he'd have to waste magic on these hijinks, which, in turn, would only cause something else to shift in this endless expanse. Why were priests so secretive, and how, of all things, did they end up here? After being picked up and brought back to what Az had identified as the X, Ignatius eyed it curiously, ever so gentle with a reminder to himself that all of this was but a stepping stone on a path to glory. "Yeah, that would make sense. There's common mages that could try, but I think I have it figured out. This really isn't much of a security, all things considered.", he was quick to tell Azrael, eyeing him for a second, then back to the X in the perceived spot. "I- no. You'll be fine. It might incinerate you if you're a demon, though." With a quick snort, he reached out, pressing his hand against the structure - he moved it, slowly and slightly, and a faint glow eminated from said hand as the mechanism finally snapped into place, making Ingatius pull back his hand and yelp in surprise over the sudden movement. Something moved, and dust soon fell from the ceiling, only to stop a few seconds later. Again, he coughed, waved through the air and looked at Azrael as the path to their feet lit up, glowing faintly, seemingly back to where the statue was. "There we go."

Back at the task at hand, Ignatius looked at the mechanism and claimed he knew how it all worked. Azrael was neither demon nor priest, so he wasn't too worried, but maybe it was enough to not be holy to not be killed. He stood back a step at least but close enough so the priest could see as he reached out his hand to activate whatever this was. Again they were covered in dust and Azrael coughed as well, then dusted of his shoulders and head at least. If his hair hadn't been white already now it probably would have been. It seemed to be forever since someone activated this. "I take it this means whoever lived here didn't make it this far to fled the demons...", he mumbled, now looking at the floor that glowed slightly and led them back to the statue. They followed it, though the statue was still at the same spot, now glowing though with a halo at the head. Hopefully they didn't just turn on the lights...

"What now?", he asked the expert while also moving closer to inspect if anything had changed. As just a hunch he simply tried to slide the statue off and low and behold a little push was all it needed to move the rest of the way on its own. Below where the statue had been was a staircase leading further down. Down, not up. Azrael held the torch down to illuminate what lay ahead. "This leads down... Not up.", he pointed out the obvious. Maybe it would lead out anyway? Hopefully there weren't any more puzzles waiting for them, but it sounded better than certain death by the sewers. "Should we go down?", he asked, he'd go ahead, right now he saw no end to the staircase however. How far down would this lead?

“Safe to assume so, yes.” Which also meant that the chance of survivors, which had already been painfully close to zero, was now zero for sure, unless whoever attacked the village took captives as a bargaining chip. The demons were, hopefully, smarter than to try that - nobody would come for those unfortunate souls, and they’d simply rot in their grasp like so many of them had before. In fact, Ignatius was quite aware that that was a fate wished upon nobody, by no one - there was no need for him to even attempt reasoning; it was wrong, and despicable. “Have you ever mourned someone you never knew?”, he wondered aloud, and therefore subjected someone like Azrael to another mindless question, brought about by the sheer boredom of knowing too much and too little about their situation at the same time. Once they got out of here, he figured, they’d at least be good to move on further and leave this wretched broken place behind them - and with it, that damn vampire that had caused them to lose both their horse and all their equipment. Maybe they could ask the next intact monastery for something to make their journey easier - even if suffering built character.

Before them stood the statue, still, and it didn’t seem to have moved an inch. Was more magic necessary? Ignatius hardly knew, he figured it might be, but he also knew that he was most likely not thinking outside of the box like this puzzle should make him do. Annoyed, maybe even the slightest bit pissed off by such a prospect, he wanted to get rid of this thing, but instead found that it wasn’t important at all. Why get worked up over something like that? Groaning about something so trivial was already bad enough. “We could tr-“ It wasn’t even needed; Azrael had already figured it out and lo and behold, it really didn’t need any more magic. The glow should be enough of an indicator, then, and coughing as Ignatius had been and was, he cleared the bits and pieces of debris and dust out of his hair. Now, the only wa- “What?” He looked at Az as if his head was on the wrong way around and audibly groaned about the revelation. “I suppose that’s the only way we have anyway. You first or me first?” Ignatius didn’t even wait, instead, he took the lead, given the propensity for traps down there, potentially. If not, at least Az would be spared a slow and agonizing death by poison arrow, or other knickknacks. “It’s even dustier down here. Ugh.”

Ignatius asked a very odd question there and Azrael needed to think about it for a moment. "I don't think so, no.", he eventually answered. "I mean, there were people who died next to me, or the people in that village, which is terrible, but I wouldn't say I mourn for them." He didn't blame them for their weakness or anything either. Especially not if a whole army swept over them. It was sad, it was also sad if a young hunter died on their first mission, but that was just how the world worked. Azrael didn't do much with others. He didn't want a partner and he didn't seek out anyone. When he could help it he stayed away from cities, most of them were built around a church. Even when his mother was still alive it was mostly the two of them too. When he went to the village he just delivered goods or bought food, but he didn't have any friends there, nor did anyone have much love for him either. After his mother died he was all alone and had been ever since.

Ignatius brought up a lot of old memories and Azrael rather focused on the path that lay ahead of them and was now revealed to them. Ignatius seemed surprised about the direction it took too and yet he simply waltzed on down first and Azrael followed. Once they both descended a few steps though, their entrance shut tight with a loud thud. Azrael turned around immediately pressing against the stone ceiling, but it didn't budge. It seemed even more like this would be their grave. "Damn it!", he cursed under his breath and even tried to stem his whole body against the stone, but nothing moved. At least they still had their torch. The grimy walls of this staircase were incredibly narrow and somewhat moist. "You should let me go ahead...", he eventually sighed, giving up on the way back. He felt like Ignatius sometimes liked the role of a martyr, but the truth was Azraels reflexes were better, so he might have a better chance of spotting any traps. "If we run into a trap and it hits me, at least you could heal me right?" That would be difficult the other way around.

That was an answer in it its own right - Ignatius couldn't blame him for it, in fact, he knew that Azrael definitely saw his fair share of gore and pain every now and then and that nothing that anyone would give him would ease out those memories, or soothe him more than he could soothe himself. The life of a hunter, as he imagined it from tall tales and unforgiving stories, seemed strange and lonely, both at the same time, and he realized that maybe, he wouldn't want to live that one for himself. Everything was up in the air, still. "I see, I was simply curious.", he proclaimed, not necessarily unhappy with the word he had received. Different people worked in differing ways for a reason and only having one eye on one situation wasn't exactly a good way to keep things in check. "I was curious, it all seems very alien to me - being human, that is. And that, in turn, most likely sounds odd to your ears.", Ignatius explained on his squabbling about things and bits and pieces. What was it that brought him joy, and what was it that would bring him something less than that? If only he knew.

Happiness wasn't necessarily something one could buy, or find down here to begin with - before they could turn back, he heard Azrael exclaim something and the grinding of stone against each other, and suddenly, what little light they had from up there was gone, too. "Huh!?", he suddenly yelped, and then turned around to see what Az was doing. Had they been sealed in? What a stupid ... so was this a trap as well? No, that hopefully wasn't it - he wasn't going to panic now, it didn't suit him and was ill-fated in this place, yet, he wasn't sure if he'd get out of here again. Would he? "This keeps getting worse and worse ... I'm glad when we are out of here and not part of the assortment of bones down here." With a groan, he turned around again, wanting to push forward, but Az offered up a real possibility. Should he? Ignatius wasn't sure. In fact, he stopped in his tracks and gave it a thought, then retorted. "I ... assume so, yes, that would be okay. But you've taken the fall for me more than once. Do you really want to? I won't stop you, but I can heal myself if need be, too." Again, he didn't take any of this for granted either and he did so for a reason, yet, he wanted to avoid more pain. Was he a coward for it?

"Being humans seems alien? You are human though.", Azrael reminded him. Holy blood or not, he did bleed and needed to drink and eat to survive. He needed sleep and rest as any other person as well. What of this made him not human? Even talking about normalcy, Azrael doubted there was anyone who led a normal life, not with demons roaming about. He didn't have one for sure, even though they were too many orphans to count. He had had it hard always though, before he made a name for himself and hid most of his features, he often was met with more distrust than others, simply for his white hair and piercing eyes that still sported a young face and not an old one. It wasn't a stretch to mistake him for a vampire by looks alone, though he didn't sport the fangs and in fact he was very human. There was nothing special about him, he just taught himself a few tricks and didn't always play by the rules.

The door was closed and Ignatius was surprised himself, just being able to watch on in the narrow staircase as only really one person could stand at either side. "On the bright side, if this is a way out, it may lead us out the monastery. I'm not sure if we'd been very save had we just reemerged inside the walls...", Azrael mumbled. He wasn't an optimistic person, but it had worried him before, so now that seemed less of a problem at least. "Have I now?" He fought to protect Ignatius and himself, but it wasn't like he flung himself into a demons claws to shield that priest. He agreed though, so Azrael squeezed past him and went on ahead, holding the torch with one hand and holding on to the wall with the other as the staircase was pretty steep and dark. "If you were hurt it would rid you of some strength with leaves you less able to heal, right? Besides, you might be knocked out and can't do it. It's better if I go ahead." This was all logical to Azrael, he didn't try to play the hero. He walked on and on and it felt like forever, but the staircase didn't stop. It got cruder though, as if stones were layn out before, but now the steps simply were carved into the rock. The walls actually started dripping with water and the stairs were wet too. "Be careful, it's kind of slippery..."

"The normalcy of being human ... well, commonfolk, at least.", he told Azrael, not trying to seem high and mighty at all, more so confused that his views were questioned right now even though Az seemed like he didn't have a normal upbringing either. Should he push the issue? No, that would only lead to more of a rift between them, something that was already pre-established since their first meeting and Ignatius entire existence as a priest was most likely a thorn in his side already. "I grew up sheltered. I know nothing of the hardships of life, and I don't think I ever really will. See, human life, in essence, is unknown to me. They always told me that there was nothing out here worth pursueing or worrying about, you know? But that seems further from the truth now." He just wished to understand why he was brought up that way, and then, likewise, brought into question his entire failed existence as a human; he was was a saint, in body and mind, which only made his life worse, didn't it? Was this how people usually lived, in turmoil and pain? It seemed miserable to him, and the further the crawled down these catacombs, the more he seemed to understand that life wasn't all that easy.

Azrael made him consider the possibilities of what awaited them, and suddenly, he was more than happy to crawl out of here. What if there was something he'd never seen beyond these walls of death and rot? "Do you ... think the sea might be out there? I've never seen it.", he confessed, as childlike glee spread through his face and voice. Ignatius, of all people, was nothing more than somebody that had lost the plot a long time ago and had his priorities in a garbled order. There was no chance for a beach day, much like they didn't have a moment for respite. It just happened, at the worst time, to the worst of them. "You have." And that, too, was true. Why wouldn't it be? Az had protected him and he was doing so, even now - he deserved some sort of compensation, or at least recognition for it. As the white-haired menace passed him, Ignatius wondered what he could give him to make that nomadic life of his just a bit easier, yet failed to come up with anything, really. "That ... you aren't wrong about, at least." He had to give him that, as annoying as he might think it to be, or as weird as he thought it to be. To him, Az might as well be a hero - or a knight in shining armor. "Huh? Ah. Yes.", he mumbled, trying to keep pace with him as he was, equally, trying to be careful about where he was putting his feet. Ignatius was anything but used to this - how much deeper would this go? "Everything alright?"

"It doesn't make sense to me that you people don't even attempt to understand what is going on around you..." Not Ignatius specifically, he now asked about those things, but how would anyone make the right decisions when they didn't know anything? "I was all by myself, I had nothing much I could do but hunt some rabbits. I was lucky if I found any work on a field or a farm." Meanwhile Ignatius lived in luxury, paid for by the people that were told the only way to protect themselves was to offer money to the church. They paid for their safety, only to be the first to be abandoned when it got hard and when there was someone magically gifted, instead of having them defend their home, the church whisked them away to be indoctrinated by their believes and generate more riches for them. At least that was how Azrael saw it. Their money would be better spent elsewhere, not just for themselves. It wasn't really Ignatius fault and yet he despised the naivety.

"No. If we walked in here until we reached the sea, we'd have to walk for days and I very much hope we don't have to do that.", he replied. What an odd idea Ignatius suddenly sprung there. "I just did my job.", he sighed. He wasn't paid enough for this and even if Ignatius promised riches, he wasn't the one who could give that. Besides, At this rate Azrael wasn't sure if he'd survive. They went further and further down with nothing much happening. "Yeah...", Azrael simply mumbled until he finally saw an end to this. The stairs ended and he picked up the pace a bit until he stepped into a room that instantly was lit by some form of magic he assumed. Torches lined the whole room and there was another statue, a taller one at the end of it. "What's this?", he asked Ignatius, since he himself had absolutely no idea. An altar? Another riddle? Justa very very fancy tomb?

"I've tried. I mean, in a way. I wasn't really allowed to, but curiousity kills the cat eventually." Unfortunately, that meant they'd have to lock him up for a day or two, and then see if he'd come to his senses - Ignatius was a well-behaved kid that knew he could hold the world within the palms of his hands, if only he abided the rules that were laid out before him much like any offering to a god would be. Often times, especially as a kid, he ignored them on purpose, aware of his misgivings for them, and decided to do something more fun, in the mind of a child anyway. "That ... sounds less than ideal. So your life, up until now, has just been work? Has there been a single place you felt rested or at home at?" It was weird to ask an almost stranger such things, Ignatius admitted to that, but he knew well enough that Azrael might maybe want someone to talk, and if he didn't, he was welcome to shut him up forevermore. It was better like this, for a few reasons anyway.

"I think it would be quite a ways too stuffy for that. But ... if I can at some point, I think I'd like to see the sea. What about you?" Did Az have fleeting dreams like these? Hopefully - maybe they both would be human in their own right, even as they took farther and farther steps away from the people that he called commonfolk. "And you don't want praise for that?", he summarized. If not, he could dial it back, though, he had heard that sometimes people - and especially those that acted like pets - liked praise at times. Az wasn't necessarily like a dog, more so a cat, and he seemed to make it a point that he would prefer not to be talked to too much. With that in mind, they trudged forward, and while Ignatius hoped they'd eventually find their way out, all they wound up at was another chamber with another statue. This was proving to be both boring and difficult quite quickly - who had come up with this sort of deference in the first place? "Let's see." A trial? Maybe. Taking his sweet time to make it to the plaque, Ignatius eyed it, kneeled down and removed the dust here as well, but there was even more gibberish on it than on the last one. "It's another riddle." He looked at Azrael, then read aloud. "Of the king I am blue and of the peasant I am red. Of the frog I am cold and of the dog I am hot. What am I?" At least the answer was easy, to him at least. "How much, though? Can I have your knife again?"

"I guess so, still... shouldn't you protect the people, the commonfolk? Paladins like your father too? It is us hunters more often than not to actually do that, you know..." Sure they also took payment, but only so they could survive themselves. Well, some were crooks also, it was unfair to throw all priests into the same hat but say all hunters were honest, they were most certainly not. When he was asked if there was a place he called home, or felt save in Azrael answered awfully quickly. "No." Since he fled the village he'd been on the road, scraping by, making money, buying a weapon but when he got one, he didn't go back. He just kept travelling and taking work as a hunter eventually, wherever there was some. He didn't make any friends or partners, he didn't trust most humans and even if they did, they all died soon enough, so he thought there was no point in getting close to any of them. He was better off on his own and he didn't think he'd end up on a journey with just one other guy when he signed up for his last job.

"Well you know where your journey leads, is the sea on the way?" Probably not and Azrael had no place he'd like to see. He saw the sea before, but at the coast there weren't many settlements, they were just too hard to protect. "I already get paid in money for it.", he answered and eventually he followed Ignatius to the statue, so he could once more read the inscription. "Another one? Why... I feel like this is less a way out and more protecting something...", Azrael sighed. Maybe there was an easy way out behind whatever? It was wishful thinking at this point. Ignatius read the riddle and Azrael listened closely. This one even he could solve. "Blood.", he let out and got a knife out, but he didn't hand it over. "I'll do it." Ignatius was the one that needed his strength to heal them and maybe create some water, it didn't seem like there were any demons down here, so Azrael could afford to let some blood. It didn't specify holy blood either, quite the opposite if anything. Azrael pulled up the sleeve on his left arm. There was a little trough with a hole in the middle, which he assumed the blood should go into, so he cut his lower arm and let it drip into it. "Blood... is that normal for a holy place...?", he asked the expert.

"Theoretically we ... they should. I'm just a liability right now, and probably will be for ages. What I'm saying is, they don't even do that, and it all falls back to people like you that shouldn't be doing any of this.", he admitted, and he was guilty for it. To dispatch someone like him to help the people was like sending for vitriol, inviting demons to attack them at every second of their day, and to actually assume that would help anyone was the work of a madman as well. Ignatius already knew the answer to all the questions that burned in the back of his throat, it didn't matter much more than that. "That's saddening." No place to call someplace he felt rested at, loved at? Ignatius couldn't fathom it - in fact, he didn't want to, knowing that he would only hurt himself and his brain over trying to wrap his head around the nature of a hunter in the long run. Were they ever not on the move? When did they permit themselves a moment of enjoyment, of respite? And if they did, who put food on their table? All those questions sounded as if Ignatius would have to learn it the hard way, if he ever did, that was, given his dislike for how this journey went already.

"No, I fear not really." Which meant he wouldn't get to see it. It was an understatement to assume he was bummed out about it - in fact, Ignatius wasn't happy at all, and he had to come to the relization that he would much rather be doing something else than this at times. Why was he at the whims of fate? What an annoyance. "I sure hope it's a way out and not some useless artifact.", Ignatius made it known that he wasn't exactly having fun, but sometimes, that didn't help. If they found some artifact, fine, he'd take it, but it wouldn't serve a proper purpose in their hands - unless it could evaporate demons, or something like that. "You'd be right about that." At least they reached that conclusion individually, but together. "You'll do it? What if it ne-" No holy blood? What an odd thing to require of someone. Az seemingly cut himself without hesitation, then fed the mechanism the sanguine substance. Who on earth would require blood? And, actually, it ... was that even the solution? Ignatius neither heard nor saw anything move, not like last time. "Noooot that I can think of? I mean, sure, there might be instances, but this sounds more like it was made with ... someone else in mind, you know?" A vampire overlord, maybe. Did this church just serve them? Who even knew.

"It would help if the churches wouldn't denounce us all...", Azrael sighed. It was too hard a topic probably, they'd just fight over it so Azrael stopped there. "It means I have nothing to lose.", Azrael disagreed. Even cities weren't save of being destroyed at any point, church or not. It was much easier to just stay where it was save more or less. He had a home and a family and he lost it. Since then he didn't settle anywhere and he preferred it that way. Ignatius knew nothing else but being sheltered and cozy it seemed. It bit him in the ass now and he had to rely on someone like Azrael. Even if there weren't any demons around, he didn't know how to hunt or make a fire either. In a world like this Azrael felt like everyone should know hot to get food and shelter. As they had seen already, disaster could strike any second anywhere, it was easer not to have any roots.

"It's dangerous mostly anyway..." Currents, winds, sea monsters. It wasn't very pleasant, lakes and rivers were easier to navigate most of the time and the sand was annoying. "Well maybe an artifact wouldn't be too bad..." But Ignatius would probably be the only one able to wield it and well, he wasn't much of a fighter. Ignatius objected kind of, but Azrael already cut his arm, but once the blood dripped down, nothing happened. "Someone else...?", Azrael asked not in the slightest amused by that thought. "Is it not enough?", he wondered, kneeling down so he could hold his arm better over the opening. He put his other hand on his arm to squeeze a bit, so more blood came out faster. Eventually Azrael spotted a red line that led towards the statue, maybe this was working? Azrael was impatient a bit at this point and thus he cut a bit deeper for his blood to drip out faster and eventually there was a click and some more dust. Azrael grabbed the torch he put on the floor meanwhile to hold it up, seeing some form of box? Next he pressed his free hand on the wound to stop the bleeding for now. Hopefully it would stop on its own. "Is that it...?"

"I agree that it would. But there's no changing those who believe in the values they set for themselves and cling to them, no matter how wrong or outdated.", Ignatius replied, knowing he alone couldn't change anything. Sure, he was the one that they relied on to get through the current war with those that crawled out of the neither to claim their souls, but in all actuality, he was simply a pawn to them, ripe for the picking, and he'd do what they wanted him to, whether he liked it or not. That was just how these things were. "I guess, aside from your life. Don't you value that at least a little bit?" What kind of comeback was that? Not that Ignatius could dictate what this man did with his life, but really, he wished that Azrael would at least take a little care of himself, or act like his existence had meaning - he might not be well-off, or even someone the church would consider an asset, but he still did great work for all of them, even if they didnt want to admit to that at all. Why did they hate the hunters so much anyway? As Ignatius saw it, they were quite useful.

Was it, really? That was a shame. "That's also sad ... I guess the state of the world, as a whole, is sad if you think about it." And no amount of lamenting was going to fix any of that. Why would it? Actions often spoke louder than words for a reason, one which Ignatius didn't have, as he toiled about for other reasons. "Depends on ... well, what it is?" If it was something useless, neither of them had use of it - and if it was a weapon, Ignatius would have much to learn to actually use it. "Or something else." Which didn't bode well for either of them. "I-" Before he could offer his own, Azrael cut at himself again and Ignatius grimaced - his entire being hurt as he watched this man do it without even flinching once; he hated that. What if he hit something important? Healing was always an option, but necromancy was frowned upon and a revival spell needed too much energy right at this very moment. Nothing was going according to plan, this entire journey was doomed and Ignatius should ask to turn back, but he didn't, not when they finally moved onward as the statue moved. "Let me help you before we push further. I insist.", he made himself clear, grabbing ahold of Az and, surpressing a cough, already let the healing magic flow through his fingers, into the deep cut that stitched itself back together in an instant. Even that tore at him, and Ignatius didn't like it, not a single bit - in fact, it ... it simply hurt him, too. As he let go, he looked up, then saw the box. "I ... suppose so. What do we do with it?"

Did Ignatius really not believe in all of this himself after only setting foot in the real world a few days ago? Azrael didn't want to argue, there was no point in making Ignatius question his believes anyway and he probably wouldn't just back down easily too. "I'm just trying to survive.", he replied. He didn't think much about his life or it's value. He didn't aim to die, but picked a questionable profession. It was something he could do alone, away from others, on the move always and he knew how to defend himself, that was mostly the reason. He learned a lot over the years, having his fair share of dire situations, but he always made it out alive. "It is...", he sighed agreeing about the world. If Ignatius could fix it, he should at least try, even if it sounded a bit too good to be true. One guy just killing all demons? How would he even do that? Even if it cost him his life, the prize didn't seem very high when looking at the great scheme of things.

With the statue in front of them, they could only wonder where this lead. A holy artifact was maybe not so bad, but paying for it with blood seemed a bit off. This place was also so far down, it was eary and Azrael wanted to get out of here. Not that outside was much better where demons and vampires were after them... "We're not freeing a demon lord here or anything, right?", Azrael asked grumbling, but it was too late anyway. Before he could do anything about that box however, Ignatius grabbed his arm and started healing the wound. Azrael pulled his arm back. "That's quite enough.", he told the priest. An infection would be bad, but aside from that, the wound on his arm had been the least of his problems really and Ignatius was worse off himself. Azrael pulled down his sleeve, then eyed the box that appeared before them. "I don't know... leave it? I just want to get out of here...", Azrael sighed.

That was it? Trying to survive without a plan would hardly help anyone; it definitely didn't help someone like Azrael if he ever wanted to make it far, but even Ignatius knew that he probably didn't care about things like that. After all, he could live his life the way he wanted to, not dictated by anything but his own greed, if he so chose to listen to it in the first place. "It will hopefully be better soon." And with that, a new era of someone would herald itself as the definitive one, only to be swept under the rug thereafter, because demons weren't simply out of the world because of a single sacrifice that would need to be deemed worthy - or not. If Ignatius faltered, he knew that none of this was going to amount to anything, even if he chose to die, and every minute that he spent questioning those ideals, he knew he was making it harder on other people to actually believe in the cause he was supposed to represent. Wasn't this something? A way out, a fleeting moment of delusion that they all were allowed to have, only to then realize that this, of all things, wasn't something anyone wanted to begin with.

Still, there the box sat and Azrael was right - they didn't want to uncover something that best spent the rest of its life resting here, for a purpose no less. How much longer until that became apparent, too? "No, I don't think that's what the church would put here - and even if it was, it wouldn't be some dingy little box like that." With confidence, he strode forward to the altar it sat on. The box itself was fancy up close, almost kitschy, definitely made out of gold, or at least dusted in said material, as blue lacquer sat beneath the embedded gemstones that glittered as he looked at them. Ignatius wasn't sure if this was more of a thing about trusting his gut, or if it was definitely something he should immediately forget about. "I do want to get out of here too.", he confessed. Well, at least they both knew what they wanted. "But I doubt bringing this could hurt, if only to pawn it off. We could afford new gear at our earliest convenience, and not whenever we run into a new monastery.", he suggested, and he knew it as it was. "I'll carry it ... but I guess we should look at whats inside." There wasn't a single indicator for it to be the source of any spell or seal, really, and that gave him confidence to touch it, then open it up - a gust of blackened dust hit him, which sent Ignatius into another coughing fit. Enough with this already! But otherwise, the box was empty, save for a little cross, about as kitschy as the box, and just about as expensive, most likely. "See? It's fine."

Azrael was still not sure if he could believe in Ignatius salvation thing. There was no way to verify that what he said was true, maybe at the end nothing at all would happen. Even if it did, it seemed like previous saints didn't do a good job at saving the world looking at it right now. They would never agree on this however and Azrael was too tired to fight over it, in fact he already talked more than enough today. He rather looked at the ominous box that was revealed to them. "Are you sure about that?", Azrael asked grumbling about the contents of the box. Ignatius wasn't wrong when he suggested selling it and its contents though, maybe someone would take it simply for the materials. "I you're alright with that." By extension it belonged to Ignatius, at least more than Azrael. This was a holy place of his people, if he took something and didn't want to preserve it, Azrael didn't see a reason to disagree, he didn't want to open it though.

"It could be dangerous." Ignatius didn't listen, he already opened the box and some dusty thing flew into his face, making the priest cough again. Azrael meanwhile found it very suspicious as it almost looked as if something had moved there. "Are you fine though?", Azrael asked and stepped forward to look behind the statue. That thing went there, or maybe it was just air pulling it out, fresher air. Not that is was fresh now but there was a path that definitely hadn't been there before. "We can go on here.", he informed the priest holding up the torch to see what awaited them now. "Do you need a break?" They've walked for a wile, even though there hadn't been much that was going on, but they were both hurt, Ignatius more so and that stupid idiot wasted time healing that cut on Azraels arm as well.

If this was against some sort of sacrament, they should have told him that much before any of this - Ignatius knew that he was just buying them time by making it painfully obvious that he seemed to be disillusioned with who he was, and that it didn't need to be as it was. "I'm sure.", he retorted. There was no way to find out just how fucked up all of this would get if they died down here and if they didn't have anything to feed themselves with up there, then the darkness of a mausoleum was maybe even a better spot to spend their last hours in than to seriously believe that they'd make it up there. Was he hungry? No, he could do without food for a while - water was the essential part, and something that he had almost unlimited access to, as long as he could wield magic that had been ingrained into his soul and very being. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I weren't." And he meant it, too. "What good is it going to do anyone if it stays down here when the entire city might as well collapse come morning? It's not helping anyone like this. Besides, it's tacky, and seems like the riches used to make it in the first place were ... well, not that of the church itself, anyway."

Ignatius had been raised to be selfless, even if he was someone that would always get everything he desired as long as it was within reason - to give back to the people was something he wouldn't bat an eyelash for twice, were it asked of him; of course he would. "I deem it fine.", he chuckled after the dust had left his lungs and he felt as if he could finally breathe normally once more. "I'm alright, just ... tired of all this dust and dirt." Which had been his biggest problem. His body was hurt, much like his mind, but he'd make it, somewhere, some place, one step at a time if at least they let him crawl to his destination without interruption. Azrael wouldn't need to carry him, and as the statue in front of them was offering them a way out now, at least if he judged it by the slight howl of the wind he heard, he was more than eager to leave this grave behind him. "That's good." What if they'd never found a way out? He'd have gone insane. For now, he quickly tucked the box beneath one arm, then looked at Az, ushering him through the newly discovered hallway. "No, you? We can rest when we got out affairs sorted." He didn't feel like keeling over just yet, after all.

"Well I guess you could also bring it back to your people.", Azrael suggested, but he didn't care much. Ignatius didn't care much about it either it seemed. Would he suggest the same if he found a holy lance or something of that sort? This box didn't look very holy, more decadent if anything. This topic was over too and Ignatius already tugged the box under his arm to carry it with them. It was all they had right now. "Mhm... hopefully this path leads out and not to more trials and riddles...", Azrael agreed. Ignatius wanted to go on, which was only fair enough. The hunter also wanted to be out of here, simply so they could care about their water and food problems faster. It seemed a lot saver down here, no demon in sight and a narrow path was easier to defend, but no food and water was bad. "No, I'm fine, just tell me if it gets too much."If this led out they'd probably have to climb an equal amount of stairs up again.

Azrael moved on therefor, it was another narrow hallway that seemed to go on for quite some while. Eventually there were stairs as he predicted and they started their ascend. It was a good sign, it looked like this way led out at least and there were no other chambers in sight. As they climbed and climbed Azrael slowed down a bit, noticing that Ignatius was falling behind. After what felt like an eternity the path abruptly ended with a wall right in front of them. "What now?", Azrael asked, pressing his hand against the stone to see if there was any mechanism that would open this up. Maybe it was magical, like the other path. "Do you want to try?", he asked Ignatius, making some room for him to pass. It made sense this place would be sealed from both sides, they could only hope behind this wall was the outside hoewever. How late was it anyway? Engulfed in darkness Azrael couldn't tell how much time had passed at all.

"For them to sell it to the highest bidder and for us to gain nothing of it? No thanks." Ignatius knew them, their thieving ways and their foolish laughs, obsessed with making it through the worst of storms, just by themselves, leaving no room for others - or faults, or error, even. Sure, it could be that, in the back of their mind, they had other things they thought about, but in reality? They didn't care, and he knew it. "We'll be fine, I think.", he half-heartedly tried to assure the man himself - he knew it wasn't a good idea to do so, and every second he spend trying as much, he was only deluding himself and then Azrael, but they had to try. As they moved onward, and thankfully upward, it seemed like the stairs gained sentience and Ignatius lost composure - the longer all of this went on, the more he came to the realization that he was spent, and that it seemingly got harder and harder to keep track of Az in this one-way hall that felt like it had narrowed further and further the closer they got to the top. How long until they got out of here?

After what seemed to be an arbitrary amount of minutes, hours, maybe years or months in the back of his head, they had come to a halt and he looked at Azrael like they had quite literally ran into a wall. What? What was going on? Frankly, he didn't know, but what he was aware of was the fact that he was way too spent to be down here for more time than he needed to. "Sure, I'll ... give it a hand.", he voiced exasperated. This was worse than the time he was seriously considering to let himself fall off a cliff, just to see how it felt, only to come to the realization that coming close to death wasn't the worst, but crawling back up the same cliff was the worst thing ever. Reaching out his hand, Ignatius grabbed ahold of the door and under his gentle caress of a thousand magic spikes, it moved with ease, letting him stumble into the room beyond, bathed in the evening sun that stung in his eyes, acclimated to a single torch in the darkness of death. "We're out.", he declared, taking a moment to breathe in, then out, and stumble further along the ... wooden floor? They were in a house, no, a hut that seemed equally as dusty as the mausoleum that was beyond them now. "Finally ... ugh. I think ... can we rest here? What do you think?" Was this a safehouse?