The murky swamps of the demon country did nothing for the wandering rose, her beauty standing out like a star in the night sky. Still, she had made this land into her home, a place where she could be herself, she could do her own worship, and no one would, or could, say anything about it. The scent of blood was heavy around the little clearing she had made, and a weak moan could be heard through the trees. In the clearing a large circle was drawn on the ground, inside of it a triangle, and inside of that, a young woman with snow white hair laid in the middle. Off to the side, against a tree, a man was lying against the tree, slowly bleeding out, a trail of blood leading from the circle to his body, a severed arm in the distance that had clearly been used as a brush.
Even though his dying moans were loud, they finally began to fade into nothingness, and anyone listening would be able to her the girl chanting some strange langue, some dark cryptic hymn, something that caused the blood on the ground to go black, and for her pale, battle scarred skin to brighten and smooth out, and the wounds to heal themselves until she was the image of beauty.
"Thank you my lord Jashin, your praise sustains me".
As she got up, her eyes looked at the man laid against the try, a look of pity on her face. He had chosen the wrong god, and paid for it with his life, but at least his death had been used as a tribute to the right one. It was still a pity that he had to die because of his ignorance though.
She continued walking through the swamp, her new body a little stiff from the ceremony, but stiff like a brand new shirt, a shirt that needed to be broken in. She had remembered that there was a small village nearby that she could get a good stretch in, and if she got any new nicks and scratches, she could always get some detailing done.
"Well... On I go".