The smell of drying blood fills the air around the hill above the site of the ruined Eternal Order Temple. A line of crimson ichor has been left along the ground as if someone dragged a carcass from the road to the back of the hill where the Lord Lion's shrine rests.

A pool of blood rests at the now ruined lion's feet. The fountain behind the idol, once filled with cool and purifying water, lies tainted by the blood of that same mysterious source. Clear water, stained crimson, puddles in the surrounding area of the stone monument.

The statue itself seems to have been hacked at by some sort of weapon. The stone, cut clean through, leaving perfectly severed debris amidst the statue's body. The lion's head was cut clean off and left on the ground near its feet. The sticky scarlet liquid lies splattered and painted upon the idol by what would seem to be a pair of hands or paws. One bloodied hand print marks the chest of the lion, the blood dripping from the point to intersect with carved lines. Four perfectly parallel and perfected slashes of a blade. The slashes' appearance would make someone think a steel clawed beast had desecrated the stone with one powerful swipe of its claws.

There are no notes, no declarations of intent and no notices spouting hatred for the Lord who's idol lays desecrated. There is only the carnage left by some anonymous source.

*The first Triadic Knight patrol checks the shrine. Yaston shakes his head sadly as he examines the ruined idol of Nobanion. He copies the symbols then goes to ask the Salandran templars if they have seen anything.
Later the group starts to clean the shrine from the blood.*

A tall dark haired man and the short elf like girl at his side arrive at the shrine sometime after the patrol finds it but before they start to clean it up. The girl with the golden-orange eyes just freezes and stares at the idol, her eyes riveted to the bloody handprint on the chest and then the four lines. As the tall cleric by her side sighs sadly, she creeps forward to rest her small hand inside the larger handprint, almost tenderly. She leans forward to sniff at the mostly dried blood, then slowly drags her fingers down to trace the lines scored into the rock with the same gentle, tender touch. His words repeating in her mind…

“...it is time I played the role I'm supposed to...Stop caring about me…”

After several minutes of quiet, intense staring she finally shifts her eyes to the rest of the mess, taking in the water and rubble in one quick sweep before looking back at the handprint her hand still rests in. Finally ripping her eyes from the blood she curls her hand into a fist before dropping it to her side, as she looks back at the dark haired man watching her and taking in the scene. Then she’s in his arms, mumbling softly to him as she shuts her eyes and hides her head against him.

“I’m sorry.”

Kaci would not leave the shrine till it’s restored as much as possible, growling threateningly at anyone she doesn’t know who tries to help, until Jace, who doesn’t leave her side, mumbles quietly to her. She ceases her growling but continues to stare angrily at the “intruders”. As she cleans and watches over the shrine she every now and then shuts her eyes and growls quietly to herself, snarling at anyone who’s not Jace that comes near her…. The words repeating in her mind….

“I will still be part of your life...just not the way that either of us want…”

Her hands when not busy helping, instead fidget almost nonstop with a lion-headed ring hanging from a chain on her neck, her head bent towards the grass not speaking to anyone besides the tall cleric with the war hammer, who's by her side. And even then only rarely and barely above a whisper.

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Chiania Windleaf-nervous druid/shifter who's happily in love and married to her Seabird, with three "cubs".
Darby Mirth-troubled half-elf with an interest in the sea.
Kaci- short...moody... faithful of Lord Firemane.

The tall dark haired man would introduce himself as Jace to the triadic knights and explain that he and small elf with him were followers of Nobanion. He’d watch his companion with a look of concern on his face as she examined the damage. As she came to him to comfort he would whisper softly in response to her while holding her in his arms.

“It’s just a statue, it can be fixed.”

He’d first collect the pieces of the statue, thankful that the cuts had been clean so a spell of mending could be used to restore the statue. With the help of the others the pieces would be fit back into their corresponding spots and mended once more with the spell granted to him by Lord Firemane. He’d bless and purify the water in the fountain and as he worked he’d smile and try to lighten the mood as those gathered worked to restore the small shrine to its former glory.

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*something witty here and...maybe over there too*

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My Characters:
Yuilith Kethil Menaiivan Garadeth

Two tribal ghostwise hin, Iriana the shaman and Polo the oath-warrior, had wandered long in search of the idol of Lord Firemane, searching once dozens of cycles ago, to no avail. Polo had seen it before, when he first arrived on the island several years ago, but had camped deep in the forest since then.

Returning again to Benwick to search, they round the ruined Kelemvorite temple, and climb the hill. Scenery seems more familiar to Polo, and the spirits guide Iriana, until coming around the hill they finally find the idol of the King of Beasts.

However, as they began to approach and worship, they find that the idol was recently reconstructed after being defaced! The two gather around the idol in a mix of delight at having found it after all this time, and confusion at why it could have been defaced. Speaking amongst themselves quietly, Iriana suddenly enters a trance, letting the spirits overtake her, as Polo looks on with concern and confusion. Coming out of it after some time, Iriana looks up...

Somethin vile, evil happenin here... Somethin'in or 'omeone tried tha defaced tha idol!

Why someone be doin this? Who'd comin round this side n attack th' Firemane's shrine?

Me no knows, oh me no knows...

Iriana the shaman closes her eyes again, another spirit trance coming over her, as Polo looks on, frustration growing as to who would do such a thing, or why... as Iriana emerges from the trance, only one word escapes her mouth...

Malarites?

The two set up their camp nearby, close enough to watch the road to see if anyone would come and climb the hill, whether to deface the idol, or worship at it. After so long in seclusion in the forest, with occasional trips to Bendir or elsewhere, they had found the idol, but too late to protect it.

They knew two things now... that someone, possibly Malarites, had attacked the idol, a grievous slight to Nobanion... and also, that some goodly soul had repaired it. There were other followers here on the island, followers that had escaped their notice as they spent their time in the custom of their race, secluded deep in the forest.

Iriana sets up her tent and goes about the routine of attaching all the many shamanistic skulls, bones, and other items to the tent entrance and all around, while Polo rolls out his bedroll and starts a fire, opening a sack of seeds and nuts to eat.

They would watch the area around the idol for now, looking for worshipers, or any sign of whoever or whatever defaced the Firemane's shrine...

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