The shadow of a dark, frowning god stands over a slaver screaming at a broken wagon, while the slaves quickly make their escape from it.
Let's not get carried away, shall we? Wood is fiber, but the wrong kind for your personal dietary needs.
You hug the icon fervently to your chest.
You reverently set the Zachriedek icon to your lips.
You study the image of the Zachriedek icon, trying to fathom its depths.
You gently rub the Zachriedek icon, enjoying the smoothly finished texture as you brush away all dust and grime.
As you raise the Zachriedek icon on high, it glows softly.