Shard

Avalia

Time
🌀 Morning.

Location
🌀 Riverport - Cheap Inn.

Interactions
🌀 N/A.

Mentions
🌀 @Tae - A Philosophical Conversation.

Equipment
🌀 Regal clothes.
🌀 Tome.
🌀 356 Amas.

Emotional State

🌀 Scale

🌀 Chaotic Glee
🌀 Excited
🌀 Happy
🌀 Stable
🌀 Annoyed
🌀 Angry
🌀 Azure Wrath.

Daylight, a lingering shine from above spelling discomfort and doom for every demon. It was certainly the case for Inori, an Azure Fiend from the depths of an infinite abyss. Was it not for the consistent shroud of sapphire magic embracing this peculiar creature, an unforgiving blanket of celestial rays would have spelled the boy’s demise. Such was the nature of an Azure Fiend entirely divorced from an open sky. With a groan, the demon pushed his blanket, warm and soft, down a spindly shape. A sigh escaped Inori’s sharp-toothed maw, one followed by a yawn, ruby eyes rubbed in tired frustration. Had the night claimed him once more? He disliked this, the ever-shifting state of merciless day and soothing night. It required little more than a moment’s thought to miss the depth of home, darkness wrapped in crystalline shine. Alas, a mission had been presented the young Fiend, a pilgrimage of sorts. It was his assignment, to learn of a world beyond the safety of his home, beyond infinite corridors and academy walls.

A tired, clawed hand reached for expensive fabric haphazardly dropped to the floor, an azure wind moving to swipe the clothes from whence they had been, draping the boy in an attire painting him a lad of adequate wealth. One may have considered these motions born of sloth, the Fiend’s daily routines scarcely demanding more than a thought given form through magical means. Another yawn deigned to escape the little demon, a stretch accompanying its presence as Inori’s tail swayed behind him. Side to side, accumulating in a flick, all before the boy turned to view his tired reflection in a mirror.

’Riverport has thus far proven to be a quaint nook, in which tavern rooms and bedside comforts afford an accommodating approach,’ with pen put to paper, Inori’s notebook rose from where it had rested within the infernal’s bag, words of glimmering blue following each scribble, a record brought life. An inspection of his claws took center stage, neither focus nor digit affording the growing literature’s expanse. ’Tis’ worth noting that I came across my first human yesterday. A peculiar creature, indeed. It called me a ‘lizard’, at which curiosity took hold of my senses. The Crystalline Reptiles I am acquainted with hold little resemblance to us and yet, the reptilians of this surface world are oddly reminiscent of a familiar face,’ a pause lingered, eyes of crimson red meeting their reflection on a polished surface.

Claws soon rose to comb through Inori’s hair, messy and newly woken. He recalled mentions of an event today, one he was impressively late for, had the desire to attend presented itself. Again, the lad rubbed his eyes, shoes leaving the floor as they slid onto the demon’s feet. ’In a port with such impressive abundance, I would be surprised to learn of lacking color, for a glimmering canvas has made itself known, color echoing in cords I have yet to familiarize myself with,’ Inori finished, pen and tome returning to their home, tools of academia flowing into the demon’s bag, cradled on an azure wind.

”Fuck, imagine if I could drop the formality in my reports,” the Azure Fiend mused, a shake of his head following before the boy’s shoulder bag draped itself onto him. Much like his time and pen, the demon scarcely touched the floor, rather floating above it as a telekinetic motion of his hand allowed for the door to open. Night time was a comforting sight to say the least, but Inori had learned that activity from those he wished to observe was dwindling in later hours, and thus subjecting himself to the unforgiving sun was a sacrifice reluctantly made.

Turning to look at the patrons of a River Port Inn, one that had afforded a decently comfortable bed throughout a beautifully starlit night, the boy laid eyes on several individuals losing themselves in conversation. Options were abundant. Would he stay here, would he leave? He was told to visit the beach, and yet, curiosity tugged him in every direction. A conversation of good and evil, the moral and the immoral. Narrowing a ruby gaze, Inori tilted his head, clearly intrigued. Did the surface races believe in 'Good' and 'Evil'? Not all, it would seem.

Avalia

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Avalia

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Avalia

Time
🌑 Late Morning.

Location
🌑 Riverport.

Interactions
🌑 @funnyguy - Darius.
🌑 @Alivefalling - Dante.

Mentions
🌑 N/A.

Equipment

🌑 Blackguard's Casuals

🌑 Ebony Thorn, Ebony Ward

They were talkative, these humans. They always were. Always something to say, something to share. Always something to express. With each step, another statement echoed, another choice word lingering on Ashari’s mind. The boy deigned to spare a glance over his shoulder, taking a moment to collect himself. Social endeavors were battles he was ill suited for. Neither sword nor shield would yield him a victory on such a battlefield. Eventually, following a string of deliberations, an answer reached the surface, trickling past the lad’s pale lips as he decided to speak. ”Ashari,” the demon introduced himself, that long, slender tail swaying behind him.

He knew little of human history, or why the elves would tear a fissure in time and space to bring forth these remarkably mundane creatures as a presumed army of saviors. Allowing himself a deep breath, the Blackguard turned ahead, his gaze fixing itself on the path. Slowly, the sound of civilization began to peek through, and before long, one would witness the splendor of Riverport just up ahead. ”I have to go take care of this,” claws reached into a pocket to produce Ashari’s contract, the one indicating a request to save that of which was lost. He had failed before ever accepting the job, as it would turn out, and rather saved two unrelated individuals in its stead. ”See you around, humans..,” the boy finished, leaving his companions within the safety of Riverport as he started forth, slipping between the buildings. Someone was going to experience bad news.

Avalia

Time
🌑 Late Morning.

Location
🌑 Riverport - Deep Forest.

Interactions
🌑 @funnyguy - Darius.
🌑 @Alivefalling - Dante.

Mentions
🌑 N/A.

Equipment

🌑 Blackguard's Casuals

🌑 Ebony Thorn, Ebony Ward

And fight they did, fingers grasping swords before the two young men rose to the occasion, joining Ashari’s side in combating a green-skinned menace. The Blackguard held a certain distaste for goblins, creatures violating the sanctity of battle with trickery and mischief. Honor among goblins was mere fiction, a fantasy no one in their right mind would dare entertain, and as Ashari’s ornate blade continued to clash with his opponents’, the war demon took full advantage of his newly acquired position. Springing forth, the infernal raised his sword before it flowed into a weave of breezing cuts, a sharpened wind unforgiving and fluid as it moved from one goblin to the next. With his flank covered, the boy was able to narrow his focus, and with it, lean towards a more offensive approach.

Indeed, there was a certain beauty to be found in the echoes of Ashari’s combat. One would be forgiven for mistaking it a choreographed dance, an artform rather than a gruesome, crimson display. His breathing remained at a constant calm, the boy’s heartbeat maintaining itself at a slow, steady pace as air slipped in and out between ashen lips. A moment was spared to gaze towards those he had rescued, the humans. Were these the saviors of Avalia? The warriors of legend prophesied to stand against ever-growing darkness? How intriguing, and how utterly unbelievable. No, Ashari did not deign to entertain this particular notion, this insult.

With his blade vanishing in a mist of black and gold, the boy’s shield soon followed as he now stood motionless amongst a gathering of green-skinned cadavers, eerie eyes settling on the humans. They were spared danger, for now, with goblins having met their fate at the end of sharpened steel, supernatural or otherwise. In silence, the demonic lad took stock of his new presumed allies, a long, slender tail swaying from one side to the next, the glow of Ashari’s spectral orbs illuminating shaded darkness beneath his hood. Where would they go from here? ’Turn around and leave, Ash. You didn’t need to save them, you shouldn’t have.’

Sharp teeth clenched as thoughts began to yet again encircle the demon’s mind, confiscating his attention amongst broken flora and slain beasts. They were caught in a trap, both of them, which allowed the three to fight unhindered by further machinations, once the brothers had been freed from death’s grasp. Events lined up in their favor, despite how the scenario otherwise appeared. Springing a goblin’s trap in the middle of a battle was a death sentence, and it brought Ashari’s focus to the demi-human he had come to find. With this many goblins roaming the forest, rather than guarding their den, a conclusion could be made. There were no prisoners to keep in check. The demi-human was dead.

Allowing his eyes to fall shut, Ashari lamented these circumstances, if only momentarily. Though, it begged a question he would repeatedly ask himself. ’Why do I care?’ Again, the lad looked ahead at his newly acquired companions. If he left them alone in this forest, their safety was not guaranteed. If they were here, it stood to reason that Riverport was their destination, and as it was, the forest held no more development. Ashari had found what he was looking for in a result staining the forest floor. Goblins did not leave their prisoners unattended, and they only hunted in packs of this size if their den was left without the requirement of supervision.

”Let’s go,” the demon spoke, his soft voice accompanied by a turn before he began to walk. Was it because the three were likely heading in the same direction, or because Ashari felt some form of responsibility arise from his actions? He did not want to consider the latter, despite its relevance.

Avalia

Time
🌑 Late Morning.

Location
🌑 Riverport - Deep Forest.

Interactions
🌑 @funnyguy - Darius.
🌑 @Alivefalling - Dante.

Mentions
🌑 N/A.

Equipment

🌑 Blackguard's Casuals

🌑 Ebony Thorn, Ebony Ward

Thoughts encircled the boy’s mind, questions of why he was here, why he had deigned to walk down this particular path. Monster Hunter? As of recent unfolding events, Ashari had rather taken the role of rescuer and guardian than hunter of beasts. ’He’d think you’re pathetic,’ came a thought as the lad’s spectral gaze trailed the forest floor beneath his feet. His father’s words echoed as if a mantra, teachings of strength and pride, a raised sword with singular intent. Halting his advance, the demonic lad took a moment to ponder, memories of a past he had once known parting its lips to breath down a slender neck. What was his role in this? If Ashari was to scrutinize his father’s words, so much had been left unsaid. Why did they ever leave the Abyss? Where were the other Blackguards? What was the purpose of chasing battle in infinite pursuit of primitive bliss?

Exhaling a heavy sigh, the infernal allowed for his eyes to fall shut. Bird songs echoed through the forest, soft padding of furred inhabitants seeking their next meal amongst branches and leaves, and the addition of a warm breeze licking past the lad’s exposed arms, caressing skin gray as ash. In that moment, Ashari was struck by something he had not confronted in some time; serenity. Silence wreathed in warmth, a harmonic beat to an otherwise chaotic existence. Would the boy’s father disapprove of this, as well?

In brief, whispering silence, the flora and fauna serenading a tired soul, Ashari’s respite soon found itself shattered. As if glass crashing onto an unforgiving surface, a scream cut through his moment of peace. He would argue that it was through reflexive action that the demon burst forth at a mere utterance of this echoing sound, his steps bringing him ever closer to that most peculiar point of interest.
’Here I go again, running into battle not for the sake of it, but for others..,’ Ashari shook the notion from his mind. Now wasn’t the time, he would argue. An excuse, for when was it more appropriate to contemplate one’s teachings?

Again, Ashari heard a scream, a screech traveling through the forest. Was this the demi-human he had come in search of? No, that wasn’t a possibility, for those tracks led in the opposite direction. Clenching sharp teeth, Ashari picked up his pace, the boy’s advance weaving past trees, twigs, and stumps as if a flowing wind. ’Every goblin in the forest will hear those screams,’ the demon seethed, his thoughts given life as he witnessed scurrying shapes racing him to their prize.

’Two of them.., and humans no less,’ Ashari frowned beneath his hood, the scene painting itself into a full display before him, traps sprung and goblins on the warpath. Leaping into the clearing where an inevitable battle soon confiscated an onlooker’s gaze, a dark shape manifested itself between his claws, an ornate sword of deepest black, coated in a layer of gold finding home within his grip. The motion was echoed, a shield coming into view mere moments before a loud clang emanated from an emerging goblin’s spear meeting its surface. Ashari stood between an ever-amassing gathering of green-skins and these ’saviors’ of Avalia.

A single glance over his shoulder afforded the boy enough to further question his choices, attention cut short by an arrow whisking forth from behind a bush, its jagged tip clashing against Ashari’s trusty shield before another was met by a deflecting motion of his sword.

’And what do you do, when you fight an enemy in their territory, Ashari? You won’t always have allies, you will be outnumbered, and the enemy will use the environment against you.’

’Cut off the distance between yourself and the furthest enemy, make sure that attacks from range won’t impede you.’ Exhaling a breath, Ashari danced between his enemies, sword and shield alike seeking to prevent bladed wrath from carving a memory into his skin. With a graceful twirl, the demon finally went on the offensive, having ignored his melee opponents, if briefly, before his Infernal Regalia connected with bow-wielding green flesh. Its dark edge sunk through the goblin’s shape, little resistance meeting Ashari’s sword as it proceeded to unseam the beast from shoulder to hip, an attack which allowed for him to spin, shield rising as he felt the weight of enemy strikes clashing onto its ornate surface.

’A Blackguard’s greatest strength isn’t our Regalia, it is our prowess. Others will underestimate us, a pretty face and spindly shape drawing a picture for them. Remind them otherwise with supernatural force, Ashari.’

Swiping the shield against his opponents’ attacks, Ashari managed to stagger them, his overwhelming force causing the two goblins at his front to stumble. It was an opening to allow for a quick swing of his blade, separating head from body.

’When fighting those weaker than you, there will always be a knife at your back. Always.’

Shifting his position, as if yet another choreographed movement of this dance, a display akin to a flowing breeze, Ashari spun and found a sword clashing onto his Regalia.

’If you’re getting overwhelmed, abandon your position and find a better location. Turn the environment into your weapon rather than theirs, if you can.’

And overwhelmed amongst bushes, trees, and leaves the young demon was starting to find himself. Another arrow came flying at him as he was caught up fighting an additional three goblins, the projectile nearly digging into the boy had he not disengaged and gracefully dashed away from a bout commenced with spear and blade.

’Are there soldiers available? Captives, an animal in a cage, a hostage? They, too, are your weapons. Do you find yourself in enemy territory? Create your own army with their resources.’

Another graceful leap, the lad’s feet firmly taking stock of a tree’s shaft before he launched himself skyward, Ashari’s blade leaving a dark, glimmering path in its peerless swing where he cut down the brothers from their prison, all before landing on the forest floor once more. ”If you intend to live, humans, pick up your swords and fight.”

Avalia

Time
🌑 Late Morning.

Location
🌑 Riverport - Deep Forest.

Interactions
🌑 N/A.

Mentions
🌑 N/A.

Equipment

🌑 Blackguard's Casuals

🌑 Ebony Thorn, Ebony Ward

Twigs snapped underfoot, weightless steps proving too harsh for old, dried husks of what used to be a tree’s pride. Slowly, a demonic tail swayed from side to side, topaz eyes scanning the moss-covered ground for clues and a path. Guarded by the dark embrace of an obfuscating hood, Ashari’s sight was thankfully spared pain otherwise associated with the large celestial orb residing skyward. In scenarios akin to this, Ashari was left leaning towards what he had learned. A Monster Hunter was not merely a slayer of abominations, but a tracker, and a pursuer. To slay the beast, he must first find it.

Tracks, haphazard and frightened, stretched across the forest floor. Branches lay broken and crushed along the stretch, and Ashari noted a peculiar addition he would much rather have been avoided. Blood, droplets of crimson red now a dark remnant soaking into the ground. This was not recent, but rather, he could determine that spilled sanguine wine dated back at least a full day. A small cut was the culprit, as echoes of life’s nectar were scarce, but trailed alongside a hurried gait all the same.

”Heavy footsteps, followed by..,” the boy frowned, taking a moment to analyze this scene before him. ”A party of them..,” Ashari uttered, eyes falling shut as a vast array of outcomes played out within the lad’s mind. Indeed, the demi-human he was looking for had likely met his end, unless he was caged within a sphere of bone, wood, and sinew. Ashari knew those movements, he recognized those following footsteps getting ever closer to his charge. Goblins.

With a sigh, the demon fell to a knee, tracing his spindly claws against the shape of a goblin’s heavy step. He recalled what the boy’s father had taught him, how these creatures were time and time again repeatedly underestimated and as such, earned themselves a healthy batch of adventurers in stews and cages.

’Goblins are pathetic creatures, Ashari. They are weak, cowardly, and incredibly dangerous. Yes, in a fight you would be able to cut down a horde of them without breaking a sweat, but tell me, where do you fight a goblin?’

In their territory; that was the answer Ashari could not provide when first confronted by that question. Terrain was everything. Today, he knew better, and he was aware of the danger goblins posed, the dredges of monstrosity, those who were often cast aside with a scoff and whose devastating actions were laughed at. The truth of the matter was, however, that goblins always held the upper hand. One never fought a goblin on equal grounds, one fought them in their own home, marching into a spider’s web.

Traps, ambushes, slithering in the dark, goblins utilized tactics that had earned them this badge of caution. It was true that a Blackguard like Ashari would be able to cut these beasts down had he fought them on a different battlefield entirely, but as it was, he could foretell the outcome. Arrows from behind bushes, spikes beneath moss, daggers in the back, and distractions at the front. These abominations fought as one, despite their presumed nature as mindless beasts.

Rising to his feet, Ashari turned and started back towards Riverport. If he was to confront this menace, he would need companions. Approaching a goblin’s den on one’s own had spelled the doom of those less prepared, and where the young demon was more than ready to meet his end in battle, it would not be because of his own stupidity.

Avalia

Time
🌑 10:00 am.

Location
🌑 Riverport - Seedy Tavern.

Interactions
🌑 N/A.

Mentions
🌑 N/A.

Equipment

🌑 Blackguard's Casuals

🌑 Ebony Thorn, Ebony Ward

Riverport, a hub of life and a nexus of trade. As obsidian claws absentmindedly found themselves clicking against a wooden surface, Ashari’s topaz gaze fell to the now empty plate before him. Bread, meat, and a cup of wine, all of which his remaining wealth could afford him. Out of coin and out of luck, yet again. Slowly, a crestfallen and evidently tired demon shifted his attention towards a bounty board effectively situated by the entrance. People, monsters, missing persons, all written onto parchment before nailed to planks in hopes of attention. He had read through what was on offer more than once, and it allowed for a sigh to escape the young infernal’s lips. He preferred to fight abominations, monsters both large and small, but people? Ashari showed little patience with people. They tended to overcomplicate the most simple of transactions, and in a fight between a demon and a beast, no words needed be shared.

“Kid,” came a voice from across the table, an elf as confessed by a passing glance. Pointed ears, pale skin, hair of silk down to slender shoulders, and a grin bridging itself across his lips, “you’ve been staring at that board for a while. Something catch your fancy?”

Ashari’s demonic tail flicked in response, the lad’s spectral eyes turning to meet his newly acquainted conversationalist. Though a moment’s consideration passed the boy, a response was soon to follow. It was true that Ashari had been eying the bounty board for an uncomfortable stretch of time, but the lack of actual monsters to slay dulled the sight something fierce. He did not want to hunt a orc with a price on their head, and neither did he find much interest in locating a lost demi-human who had wandered into the forest at night. Yet, the latter did speak to him on a level surprisingly empathetic. Lost and alone, someone was currently wandering a sea of trees, catching their breath, and looking over their shoulder. Afraid, vulnerable, and with a single desire; to return home.

Home, yes, Ashari had never been ‘home’. The Abyss where demons were spawned, the realm of what some may have considered infinite layers. Indeed, the Blackguard had been told stories by his father, tales of grandeur and the fantastical. He was told of the layer where an infinite war ever raged, the birthplace of Blackguards. A question then begged to be uttered; why did he ever leave? Blackguards live for battle, it is in their blood, in their nature. It is their very being, something starkly contrasted by dainty shapes and pretty faces. An ironic combination, to be sure. ”I might look for the guy who went missing,” a soft voice trickled past ashen lips, spindly arms crossing as Ashari leaned back against an old, wooden chair.

“He’s probably been eaten, by now,” came a rather dismissive response, one accompanied by an equally nonchalant wave of the elf’s hand, “see that other one?” The elven man spoke, motioning towards that elusive board, “fat reward for a thief, I’d be willing to share it with you.”

Sharing rewards wasn’t a concept Ashari was unused to. In fact, he had participated in several hunts, journeys, and expeditions where payment was but a shared fraction. The boy’s seeming inability to demand more did not help the matter. With the lad’s eyes falling shut, Ashari’s thoughts traveled back to that missing demi-human. He had been gone for three days. Surely he couldn’t be dead, yet? However, if one was to follow the description of a ‘city fellow unused to harsh terrain’, the meager payment was only challenged by an equally meager chance of survival.

Rising to his feet, Ashari started towards the door, head shaking in weak refusal. ”Happy hunting,” he offered, earning a faint chuckle in turn.

“Going to risk your life for that pathetic sum?” The elf raised a brow, “who said demons didn’t have hearts, huh?”

Ashari’s father would certainly have disapproved, and yet, the young Blackguard was drawn to acts of empathy far more frequently than he would have wanted. With a sigh, barely noticeable, Ashari swiped that bulletin notice and pushed open the door. Slipping outside into the annoyingly bright sun, he leaned towards the protection of a hood and carried on. Perhaps, the demi-human truly was dead, and Ashari would be reminded that empathy was nothing but a waste of time.

Avalia

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Avalia

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