Shortly after having received instruction to depart in search of a combat partner, this partner having to either be a Barghest, a Geonid, or a Girallon, Rinn had found himself making the rounds through the wooded area known as the Cold Wood. The Cold Wood had been a decent distance away from the Pale City, leaving Rinn confused as to how Azazel was going to watch him. Rather than worry too much about it though, Rinn would simply follow orders and attempt to get things done. If Azazel wasn't secretly trailing him, he would just have to bring the man back the head of whatever he had chosen to fight. Of course there was something in particular that Rinn was looking for..

Despite the various options that had presented themselves to him, Rinn had opted to try and take on a Girallon. Not only would this thing primarily make use of unarmed combat, as opposed to a few of the other creatures, but it was the closest to his own way of fighting. If he could overcome a Girallon, despite its overwhelming advantages here, than Rinn could justifiably say that he was content with the way that his training was going. And if not? Well it would be a lesson learned.

At the moment, the scantily clad Moon Elf had been making his way through the dense forest that was the Cold Wood. Thanks to a unique gland that he had acquired, he hadn't been all that worried about the cold, and any of those that had observing him could easily tell as much. He likely made for a very strange sight to those that inhabited the area. Especially when one considered that he had been shouting and howling as he made his way through the forest, all in hopes of drawing the attention of a Girallon. This ran the risk of him encountering several other dangerous creatures of course, some more dangerous than the Girallon himself, but thankfully he had been lucky enough to not encounter any of them yet.

The demon in human's skin that was Azazel reclined with a pleased sigh at his seat in the gambling hall of the Pale City, mortals flocking about him and fawning, the taste of alcohol on his lips.
Now THIS is training. I could open a school for fighting if this was how instructors spent their time.

The subservient wrath demon within scoffed, having been roused by Azazel's debauchery and now definitively soured in mood.
I thought you had plans for this weakling. Sending him off on an ill-defined mission is a great way to get him killed.
Arteron, Arteron, you need to expand your mind, friend. Think of it as a win-win: if he dies, you were right, and it's no skin off our nose. If he comes back, however, we have a more capable minion for eventual conquest.
I don't give a damn about your conquest, Azazel.
Then let's make it a wager: you say the boy will die, I say he'll surprise you. Stake an 'I told you so' on it.

Azazel's lips curled into a wicked smile. demons of any stripe had a weakness for deals and gambles, even ones as poorly defined and one-sided as this one.
Fine. Can't wait to rub your blindness in your face. Maybe it'll wipe that shit-eating grin off for once.
We shall see.

Using the breach Azazel created in the boy earlier, both demons peered out through his eyes, eager to see the results of their bet ^{[Astral Soul, Mind Parasite]}.

Unbeknownst to Rinn himself, Azazel had been watching over him from afar. This was through a method that the Moon Elf couldn't even conceive.. Of course, with him not being aware of this fact, he had continued to holler and and howl, hoping that a Girallon would make itself known to him. This would take quite a bit of time, unfortunately, and eventually the elf's lungs had begun to run tired. It was surprising that nothing had dared to challenge him as of yet but there was a reason for this. A reason that Rinn would soon come to understand.

After having walked throughout these woods for the better part of an hour, Rinn would eventually stumble upon a dilapidated set of ruins. From the looks of things, this was likely something akin to a stronghold back in the day. Now though, this was nothing more than a worn down pile of stone. Stone that was home to a predator.. One that had chased away many of the creatures surrounding this area, hence why there wasn't anything that confronted him up until this point.

Curious about what might lie within these ruins, Rinn would cease his shouting and make his way on over towards it. Given that most of the ruin had been in shambles, effectively nothing more than a pile of stone, it hadn't been all that difficult for Rinn to make his way to the top of it. "Hm.. Is this really it? Damn. I was hoping that I could find some sort of treasure or something at the least. Something to make this trip worth it." A soft shrug would be offered to no one in particular at this point. "Oh well. Guess I should start looking elsewhere."

It was as Rinn had been making his way down the pile of rubble that a rather large hand would tear through the rock beneath him and would grab a hold of his ankle. Almost immediately, upon feeling the sensation of something touching his Durabone limb, Rinn's gaze would fall towards the ground. Before he could react, the meaty hand would attempt to shatter Rinn's ankle by twisting his leg in another direction. Unfortunately for the creature beneath him, Rinn's limbs were too durable to experience such a fracture and his leg had held strong.

"Who in the hell..?!" In reaction to what had just occurred to his leg, Rinn would immediately attempt to slam his other foot against the claw that held his leg. As his foot had risen from the pile though, something odd would happen.. Stone would immediately begin to coat both of his legs, shooting up to his hips, where his Durabone legs had come to an end. Additionally, as this stone had taken root upon his form, several stones from beneath him would shoot into the air and coat the both of his arms! This would extend up to his shoulders before coming to a stop ^{[Art of the Iron Fist]}. And in the moment that his foot had dropped upon the claw? That claw would immediately retract.. before growing into a full bodied Girallon!

Azazel pursed his lips and pressed two wearied fingers to the bridge of his nose. Hours of listening to Rinn shout into the wild had reverberated across their mental link, irritating the demon to no end. He was tempted to sever the connection entirely, as the loose definitions of his bet had been met: neither demon could have anticipated the boy's actions. 

Such a bare victory felt hollow even to Azazel, however, so the demon soldiered on, maintaining the grating connection despite his ire. Arteron, far from praising his superior's dedication, was no remedy to this anguish.

HA! THIS is your proposed champion, Azazel? I'll give him one thing: his detestable shouting certainly keeps everything worth fighting away. That's a sort of talent.
The day is still young, Azazel began, physically gritting the vessel's teeth. And our bet only concerns his fate, not his... unorthodox methods.
Yeah, right, ten to one you sever the connection in the next hour. I know the weakling's shouts are getting under your skin.

Spiting Arteron's expectations was just the motivation that Azazel needed to continue watching, wearied though he was. Luckily for the demon, he didn't have to wait long for something actually productive to occur. It seemed Rinn had found a stone pile of rubble. When the elf clambered atop it, a mighty Girallon emerged. For once, the demons spoke in unison:

Finally, some action!
Finally, some action!

Unbeknownst to Rinn, this particular Girallon had been on the relatively lower scale of things when it came to the danger levels that Girallon's presented. It was a bit younger than those that might tear a man limb from limb but that wasn't to say that it was all that much weaker. If anything, this fight was sure to prove an exceedingly dangerous one to the Moon Elf. The only saving grace that he had was that his silvered fists would actually deal more damage to the Girallon that he might have otherwise. Not that that mattered in this particular moment, given that his limbs were currently covered in stone.

Having lost its initial chance to surprise its prey, the Girallon that now stood before Rinn had let out a baleful war cry. It's howls had been fare more heart stopping than the ones that Rinn had playfully let out earlier in hopes of uncovering such a beast. Unfortunately for Rinn, his hoots and hollers had only led to the Girallon being more enraged than it would have been initially. Pair that with the monsters annoyance at the fact that it hadn't outright secured an advantage over Rinn and one could say that this Girallon was going to be hell to face.

Of course none of this was something that Rinn had considered. Upon finally having tracked down a Girallon, and realizing this fact, Rinn's lips had upturned into that of a toothy grin. His eyes had been set aflame with battle fury as his blood had begun to boil in excitement. All in all, Rinn had finally found the fight that he had sought out. Without putting much thought into what was going on with his limbs, Rinn would opt to throw himself into the fight, throwing one of his stone coated fists directly towards the Girallon's face. The punch was masterfully done, displaying his explosive growth from before, but wasn't exactly something that would work for him how he wanted. With one of its meaty upper claws, the Girallon would catch Rinn's fist. And with the other? It would attempt to swipe its powerful claws at Rinn, only to be stopped by Rinn's other arm reaching up and blocking the blow. As he had done so, the stone covering that arm would crumble before falling to the ground, revealing his Durabone arm in its stead. "Oho?~ Now this is what I've been searching for!!" If only he had known how dangerous this fight was going to prove to him..

The wrath demon scoffed in annoyance as the Girallon came into full view.
This is a puny example of the creatures. Anyone might beat a runt like this.
Now, now, Arteron. You were the one that proclaimed the boy to be a weakling, weren't you? If they are both weak, then it might be an interesting fight. Two novices may be as evenly matched as two masters, and the fight will be more interesting for its unorthodox nature.

Arteron grumbled as he was begrudgingly forced to accept Azazel's point, trapped as he was by the manipulation using his own words against him.

Let's just settle in and see how this develops. I might not even need to use magic to help the boy if he's resourceful and lucky, and helping mortals is such a bother.

The demon settled into his cozy seating, receiving his warmed chocolate drink and cozied up to by several mortals providing him comforting warmth by the roaring hearth as his protégé faced biting winds and ravaging claws far away.

Given that the Girallon had currently been holding onto one of Rinn's arms, the creatures superior strength keeping Rinn in place, Rinn would decide to throw more of himself into combat. With the arm that had deflected one of the Girallon's blows from earlier, Rinn would proceed to pound away at the Girallon's face. In the span of a singular attack, Rinn would succeed in getting off two! Add on the fact that his silvered fist had been brought out to play, thanks to the stone around his arm shattering, and the overall increased effect that it had on the Girallon, and one could say that Rinn currently had the upper hand!

As Rinn's silvered fists had come into contact with the Girallon, the Girallon itself would begin to bellow out in pain before hurling the Moon Elf away from it. This would send Rinn flying down towards the ground, away from the rubble. If it wasn't for his Durabone legs, and the stone coating that currently took his full weight as he flipped his body around to land on his feet, things could have gotten real bad around here. Thankfully Rinn had managed to stabilize himself before crashing too hard.

Realizing that his silvered fist had held an effect over the Girallon, Rinn would proceed to rush right back up the rubble, hoping to close the distance between himself and the furry creature. Just as he had done so though, the distance reaching about a few inches, the Girallon would pick up one of its gnarled feet and would kick him right back down the pile of rubble, sending him back onto his ass. A truly embarrassing display.

This is like a bad joke...
Perhaps, but you must admit that the boy is more resilient than you gave him credit for.
Augmenting your body to punch above your weight instills bad habits and false confidence. The boy still doesn't even try to dodge, wholly convinced in the strength of his grafts. Even if he bests this beast, his pride will grow to lead him to greater foes: ones that cannot be overcome with luck and grit alone.
Well, look at you with words of wisdom! Thoughtfulness is a good look on you, Arteron.

The wrath demon grumbled as Azazel smiled wide, pleased by catching his subservient off guard. Still, the manipulation demon was forced to acknowledge the truth of Arteron's words. if he wished this student to be part of his far-reaching plans, the pair would need to temper the elf's brash tendencies and get him to focus on technique.

Right now the more pressing issue was keeping the boy alive, even in the face of this relatively minor threat.

A little help, especially of the theatrical quality, is in order.

Using Rinn's eyes as his conduit to the tundra with the beast before him ^{[Astral Soul, Mind Parasite]}, Azazel targeted one of the scattered boulders around the pile upon which the Girallon stood, exerting his will over the man-sized stone and causing it to raise up, defying gravity's pull ^{[Telekinesis]}. The beast was so focused on Rinn that it did not see the rising boulder, which was promptly launched into its back, injuring the creature and sending it hurtling down to Rinn's level in a disjointed heap.

Despite his current ascent of the pile of rubble, Rinn hadn't been capable of seeing the heavy stone that had hit the Girallon from behind. While the elf might have had a lingering connection with the earth domain, contained within himself, he hadn't delved anywhere near it and thusly wasn't aware of the changes that occurred around him. All that he had known, in this moment, was that the Girallon was tumbling down the rubble and heading in his direction.

Figuring that the creature had simply made a misstep, resulting in its descent towards him, Rinn would continue his ascent to meet the tumbling creature. As he had continued ascend this pile, the stonework that had remained around his limbs would crumble before returning to the ground. A feeling of lightness had washed over the elf as this occurred, allowing for him to move just a smidge faster than he had before. And with the combined efforts of the descending Girallon and his own martial arts, Rinn would come to a stop. Halted in place, the Moon Elf would take on an appropriate stance for his current situation. His feet were situated in a manner that would prevent him from descending after throwing a blow from this elevation and in the moment that the Girallon had closed in on him, Rinn would send forth a burst of attacks. A singular right hook would quickly be accompanied by a left hook, each instance allowing his silvered skeletal fists to slam against the Girallon's face, causing the creature to rear back in pain.

While the Girallon had yet to give up in the face of Rinn's wrath, if these blows had continued to land upon it, it very likely would have to submit sooner rather than later. The very locations in which his fists had landed had rendered an immeasurable amount of pain to the runt of a Girallon, thanks to their silvered properties, and that was something that the creature very likely couldn't handle. Unfortunately this pain would also contribute to something else.. and that something else was the ever growing rage that the Girallon had felt.

Azazel let out a slight click of irritation, noting the boy's lack of perception for the assistance the demon provided. It wasn't often that the manipulation demon doled out kindness without expectation of binding the other party to a more strenuous return, and seeing his out of character generosity go unrealized made him seethe with glowing anger.

You're going to be continually disappointed if you expect perception from the whelp.
I'm just bracing myself for the work it will take to get this tool up to my standards. The costs I've sunk into him beg for repayment.
Doesn't feel too good, being the one indebted, does it?

The wrath demon's smugness served only to further sour Azazel's mood. With a snarky grimace that drew the concern of his mortal attendants, the demon sunk into his chair, resolving himself to view the rest of this fight with burgeoning irritation. His fawning devotees stroked his pride and gradually healed the wounds of carelessness dealt by his erstwhile protege. 

Hoping to bring things to an end, given that a drawn out fight against a creature of such strength would likely result in the Moon Elf's failure, Rinn would start to apply more pressure to the creature before him. As the Girallon would swipe out at Rinn with one of its claws, Rinn masterfully raise one of his legs to block the incoming claw attack. This would throw Rinn into a spiraling motion. One that he would use the momentum of the pull off his next attack. As the Girallon's claw had raked against Rinn's Durabone leg, his body would begin to spin and lean backwards. With a swift motion, Rinn would make use of this momentum to spin around completely, thrusting his fist in the direction of the Girallon's nose. Thankfully this attack would land, impacting the creatures breathing and sending it back for a moment. He wasn't finished here though. Seeking to bring an end to this creature, Rinn would follow up his previous strike with another from his other fist, further impacting the Girallon's face and sending it flat onto its back.

A hearty laughter would produce forth from the elf's lips as he moved to stand over the prone Girallon. Blow after blow would come as Rinn had continued to pelt the four armed beast with his attacks. Even when the Girallon had reached with its smaller hands to hold him in place, tearing into his flesh with its claws, Rinn would continue to throw his attacks. When the moment came where the Girallon had made use of its outer, stronger arms to hold Rinn back from attacking completely, he would follow through with several headbutts. This would leave the Moon Elf a bit disoriented but he continued nonetheless. He had to come out on top here. If he hadn't than he was very likely to die here and now, with no one to come to his aid. After several moments of this, the Girallon's hands would fall back at its sides, the creature now unconscious and struggling to breathe. Blood had coated the area surrounding Rinn's ribcage, gashes in his flesh evident, and yet he paid them no mind at the moment. He had all but fallen into a berserk state without the accompanying positive effects. It would actually be closer to state that his adrenaline had pushed him through the fight, allowing him to strive towards its successful end.

Once all was said and done, Rinn would have to take a moment to think on how he would transport evidence of his deeds to his supposed mentor. At present, his strength wasn't enough to make such a thing feasible. He had even considered tearing off the creatures head and bringing it back with him.. But that would take far more strength than he had at the moment. This.. would take a bit of ingenuity on his end. After several minutes of trying to figure it out, his mind becoming a little more oriented with the passage of time, Rinn would use the Girallon's claws and his own strength to tear through bits of the creatures flesh around its neck. This would take about half an hour to effectively perform, given his own lack of strength and lack of Girallon physiological knowledge, but once it was completed, he would rip off its head and start to head back. All that was left was to meet up with Azazel..

The demons watched with interest as Rinn incapacitated the Girallon, then began to behead the creature with its own claws: Arteron with genuine enjoyment and Azazel with a macabre satisfaction of superiority.

Alright, I gotta hand it to you, Azazel, the kid's got spirit, even if he did find the smallest Girallon in the world. If he can move like that in a fight, he might be worth training.
Sorry, darling, but you've lost your chance now. Besides, we've established the boy responds better to positive reinforcement, and you are decidedly not a nurturer. Now about that bet...

Arteron groaned as the pair hashed out the details of their infernal wager. Once accounts had been settled, Azazel turn his attention back to the boy, who had managed to fully behead the creature at this point and begin lugging it back in the direction of the city. Fearing that Rinn's luck would run out sooner rather than later so encumbered, Azazel reached out over his established mental contact to speak directly with the elf ^{[Astral Soul, Mind Parasite]}.

"Admirably done, Rinn. While I appreciate your zeal, I hardly think that carting part of the carcass all the way to the city gates is necessary, so I'll spare you the awkward conversation at the gate. Leave the head and meet me in the Fireside Tavern at sundown. We have much to discuss regarding your future."

Never having experienced the sensation of another in his head before, Rinn had found himself thinking that Azazel was nearby. He had speculated that the man might have been watching him from afar, or perhaps whilst in hiding, but this much would be proven wrong in the next few moments. As Azazel had continued to speak with Rinn through their established connection, Rinn would look all around him, only to not find a single trace of the man that was speaking with him. Smart enough to put two and two together, Rinn would assume that Azazel was speaking to him through his mind. A horrifying prospect, considering that this meant the man could see everything he had been doing since he left the city. If such a thing was possible, without his even noticing, than just how dangerous was this man..?

"T-thanks.. I uh.. Guess I'll go ahead and do that." Figuring that he might as well put his focus towards attempting to sort out just how Azazel was doing this, Rinn would drop the Girallon head on the ground and simply continue on his way towards the city. On his way back, Rinn was sure to run through various scenarios within his mind. This was clearly an act of magic, somehow, but one that he hadn't quite understood. Given that there was no way to tell if Azazel was within his mind, he would have to find some sort of way to combat this kind of thing in the future.. Even if the man was his mentor, he didn't feel too comfortable having someone lingering about within his mind.

After having walked around for awhile, Rinn would eventually arrive at the predetermined location. By the time that he had gotten here, he would find himself shirtless. He had torn his shirt off along the way, stopped at a frozen lake, punched a whole in said ice, and used the water to clean his wounds before returning to the city gates. Given the frozen climate of Frost Gale, the guards had been a bit shocked and worried about the Elf upon his return.. but it was simple enough to get past them.

Azazel was already waiting at the tavern when Rinn arrived, reclining in his seat a prime table, with his fingers laced behind his head as he spread out his arms, being attended to by a gaggle of barmaids, to the apparent chagrin of the other patrons. The manipulation demon always arrived at meetings before the scheduled time: the power of an established presence and seating arrangement could not be understated.

The demon grinned wildly as the elf entered his sightline, quirking a brow at his lack of shirt. Azazel waited until the boy approached and took a seat opposite him before waving away his gaggle of attendants to their evident disappointment, grabbing one on the arm to whisper, just audible over the din of the lively bar, "Be a dear and fetch a pint of fine ale for the boy, here, and a fresh one for me. We're celebrating. Thank you, darling." The demon punctuated his statement with a theatrically blown kiss towards the woman in question, drawing a florid expression and a muted squeal of delight, as the maid dashed off to comply.

Only then did Azazel turn his eyes to Rinn, a predatory grin on his face. "Well, you did it, my young protégé. I can't say I'm entirely fond of such risky tactics, but arrogance can be remedied with competence, and whether by luck or skill, you've managed in this arena. There are matters of technique that we can discuss to improve your craft, but tonight, we are celebrating and discussing your future goals."

The barmaid returned at this exact moment to serve two flagons of alcohol to the men. Azazel reached out to cup her face in thanks without even looking at the girl, sending her scampering off in embarrassment. "Drink up!"

By the time that Rinn had arrived at the tavern had come, the Moon Elf had settled in on the thought that there was no need to worry so much about Azazel. Not for the time being anyways. While he had worried about the fact that someone could so easily enter his mind without him realizing it, he had also accepted that there was nothing that he could do to prevent it in this moment. Perhaps he could acquire some sort of item to assist him in the future but here and now? There was no chance of such an event unfolding.

Once he had pushed through the tavern doors and allowed for his gaze to fall upon Azazel, Rinn would offer the man a bit of a soft smile. Several of the taverns patrons had been starting at him strangely, wondering how he could stand to be here without any sort of layers covering his upper body, but none of them chose to speak up on the matter. Just how crazy would such a man be?! Thankfully this wasn't known to Rinn since he quite likely would have chosen to start a fight over it, if the patrons had pushed him too far.

Seeing no reason to not accept the fresh ale that was presented to him, Rinn would offer one of his silvered skeletal hands to the barmaid once the mug was within his hands. A dashing smile had been presented to her as he had accepted the booze before he would graciously accept it. Once it was within his grasp, he would imbibe the contents of the mug with reckless abandon. It wouldn't take too long for the liquid within to find purchase within the Moon Elf's stomach and for the mug to be set back down atop of the bar counter. "Thanks for the kindness. That fight showed me several areas in which I need to improve. Namely my strength and capacity to counter those with several limbs. Give me a night and I'll be able to rectify these issues."