The temple stood quietly, amongst the blazing crags of a volcano, inside, monks were in deep prayer and meditation. The bells were gently ringing, and all was at peace within the temple. The doors to the temple were flung open, a tall figure stood, hands on the doors, long black hair and a beard with white streaks in the black distinguished this man who stood in the doorway. He stood, barechested, faintly glowing purple runes etched onto his skin, he wore a belt, depicting the image of a downtrodden giant's face. The man was hooded with a cloak that appeared to double as a scarf around the tree trunk that was his neck. A greatsword laid in it's sheath upon his back, buckled across his chest. The man's eyes glowed with power, "I have come" he said, his voice akin to a deep growl. The monks grouped together into a defensive formation, however, suddenly a purple energy swirled around the monk's feet, before suddenly exploding, flinging monks everywhere, a few managed to survive however.

Sarvanal pulled out his greatsword, and moved with a burst of speed that surprised the fleet of foot monks, who were barely able to dodge him. Cleaving through one, and then another, Sarvanal's greatsword then seemed to be composed of purple energy, slamming a monk into a wall of the temple. After a few moments of bloodshed, Sarvanal stood over the bodies of the dying monks. A shout was heard in the minds of the monks laying before him, "Where is it?" He mentally roared, and grabbed one of the monks. "Where is it? I know it is here!" He mentally roared. "The sword! Where is it?" The monk feebly responded, "In the tower" before expiring in Sarvanal's grip. Throwing the body to the floor, Sarvanal made his way up the temple's tower, to where a beautifully-crafted sword laid on a cloth. "You are finally mine." Sarvanal said, a disconcerting grin now upon his face.

As he departed through the now destroyed temple. One of the monks asked weakly "Why? Why all this for that? It has no magic nor power. It is a symbol of our deity, nothing more" Sarvanal regarded the monk, and then asked, "You guard it because of your faith, yes?" The monk seemed to have an internal struggle before replying with a despairing "yes". Seemingly satistfied, Sarvanal said, "I wanted to crush your belief that you could stand against the powers of the world under an idealism of weakness! I wield this blade because you are weak. Nothing more or less." Sarvanal strode out into the unbearable heat of the volcano where the temple sat seemingly fine. "Tis a good morning." He said to himself, laughingly as the moon hung in the horizon. Dropping his other greatsword and putting the ornamental one in its place in its new sheath, Sarvanal tread forwards towards the town laying at the bottom of the hill.