Spoiler: ambience Of verdurous grass and distinct aroma of fetid earth, two figures encroached upon the thicket of the Regalian woodlands. They paused in eventuality; with the sound of their footfalls becoming silent, all that could be heard was the soft susurration of leaves in the gusty wind. Not a chirp of a jovial bird, nor the squeaks of small critter could be heard amidst these lonesome woods. It was much of a curiousity between the two strangers; one clad in the metallic rustling of armour and soft fabrics of Tyrian purple — the other simply wearing tattered rags of cloth for pants and a swine's skull masking their face. —— Crrk! Whether purposeful or not, the latter stepped on forth into a clearing, scrunching up the twig under trodden hooves. Before the Url stood an aedificium of wicker and bramble: shaped into a vague figure of Man. "In every sweet cajole of this faith's rendition, I grow more and more convinced that the one behind these words is a hypocrite," He took out a ring then and there, the entirety of it etched with petroglyphic runes of Old Makdth. An ire glowered in the horned one's eyes, before panning his attention back to the Wickerman. With words that would eventually find its way into the streets, he continued with his grandiose soliloquy, "Let it be known, that he harboured love and protection towards the shattered beasts in name of Lanarra's protection! Let it be known too, that this one still hangs his head high and defiled the very Gods he worshipped! Dishonourable... going back on his vows that he learnt from ancestral kin! To show love to scourge similar to the ones that consumed his kin... does he truly care the causalities he pushes unto others?!" A torch lit up amidst the darkening forests, tossed straight onto the Wickerman. It didn't take long before tempestuous flames licked at the amalgamation of dried twigs and tufts of grass, enveloping it in its murderous caress. The maddening horns peered back onto the ring in his palms thusly, "... —— Let it be known, that this is what I think of your faith now," And with a sickening glee that unknowingly formed on his face, he threw the Old God's ring into the violent fires. Engulfed in plumes of smoke and weaving fire, the bone ring eventually shattered into nothingness. The beastman gave into his instincts there and then, letting out a sonorous hum that sunk in — reverberating the very air around him. This crude song, who was it dedicated for? It was a certain unsurety, but one he took part in with an uncharacteristic child-like joy. A faith that he once wholeheartedly devoted himself to, defiled by his very own hands. An irony too, to use "Ellea's and Lannara's passionate fires" to do the desecration. ... And all but one person bore witness to it, the Imperial Guard having not an iota of a word on it; they kept their lips shut on the whole affair.
