[center][color=6ecff6][H1]Azariah Kravchenko[/H1]
[H2]The Bone Sea[/H2][/color][/center]

It had been quite some time since Azariah had left the mountain realms of the Karlezek Enclaves, at first riding on the back of a gryphon that lifted off from one of the numerous balconies that dotted the surface of the mountain, under which the vast underground city of Mithras was located. There were dozens more like it, though the glory and splendor of the Karlezek had shriveled up in the wretched times that had passed ever since the Cataclysm that shattered the world. After a bit of flying, he'd land in the Karlezek outpost that stood the farthest away from their subterannean realms, commissioning a pair of ponies to carry the supplies that he needed in the journey to the Bone Sea, above which floated the titanic city of Exusia; his dream destination. The only place to be

He would then travel all the way to the deserts that graced the surroundings of the flying city, his beasts of burden and himself protected by a magishell made from forged steel, which ran through the dozens of sigils written on each and every joint, spring, and cog, carrying a silent sentience and an unsleeping, watchful eye. After some time of travelling alone, he would eventually join up with a caravan of travellers and traders headed to the south. They travelled along a road that hugged the coast of the Bonewater; a stream of pilgrims all seemngly headed towards the most glorious realm in the land.

Glorious... and wealthy.

Azariah was always the kind to forge ahead in self determination. He did not want to be directed by others, at least if it isn't something he wants to do; as such, he had left Mithras, carrying with him an invitation that would allow him a life of wealth while avoiding the responsibilities of being the Lord of a trading guild in the Karlezek Enclaves. Such a position was luxurious in its own way; but the risks of being murdered in one's sleep by rivals were great, and in addition to that, he had to get together with someone he barely knew. What was her name even? Azariah couldn't remember. 

Finally, after what seemed forever, Azariah arrived in their destination. Exusian soldiers allowed him to pass into the camp when he showed the invitation, letter, whatever the hell it was. This was the place, of that there, there was no doubt. Heading to the large tent as the soldiers instructed, he'd sooner step into the office of the person in charge. 

Azariah lowered the hood of his green cloak; a keepsake from home. He'd soon notice that he was looking up at everyone else in there so far, especially the giant woman that stood just a little to the left. His sword was hidden inside a sheath slung on his back; the ponies were tied to a post outside, and both of the magishells were well sequestered in bags on the back of the small horses. The tome that his master had given him was also kept hidden on the bag that he carried, though Exusians did not fear magic, other people did, and if those others knew what he was, they would burn him for being a witch.

Ah, well. It's not like all the dangers in the land can be combatted with swords and arrows alone.

With the woman telling them to wait, Azariah... waited. If one were to look at him, he'd look deceptively human, though the light purple hue of his Karlezek race would slowly seep back in the longer he wasn't standing under sunlight. One might think he was going to faint, though.

With nothing better to do, he would whisper to the giant of a woman that stood rather nearby. [color=6ecff6]"So... what led you to accept this invitation to almost certain death?"[/color] Azariah coughed. [color=6ecff6]"Ehem. How rude of me... I'm Azariah Kravchenko. I supposed we're for the same thing... and if that's the case, it would be better to get to know each other..."[/color]