Flames

[Sahji]

Purity of thought, leads to purity of action.

The undead had wriggled out from the obscene pile, and she was abhorred.
Flames spilled over them, a wretched fire, and climbed the walls.

Etoth did decree, "Restrain thy chosen sons and daughters from walking the lands of mortal kin,
it is their sanctuary, not gods' battlegrounds.

Fear. She'd taken a scroll to immunize herself from the flames. A few seconds longer.
Then cold recollection: There was another still trapped here.

Purity of heart leads to purity of soul.

No means of nonmagic would rouse the bound creature. Some planar thing with resemblance of an old wrinkled woman, yet with long horns.

Purity of heart leads to purity of soul.

There was no other scroll. She'd used the last on herself, and escape was within reach.
But not for the bound one.

Etoth did decree, "Restrain thy chosen sons and daughters from walking the lands of mortal kin,
it is their sanctuary, not gods' battlegrounds.

Flames rent the skin, charred it black. Withering, in silence, removing all forms of humanoid features, right before her eyes.