Cleansing

In the subdued glow of the underground realm, the air was thick with a palpable sense of expectation. Lassim, feeling the weight of his responsibility, stood before one of the ancient shrines dedicated to Khaalseru. 

Sanvra, standing beside him, watched intently, her eyes reflecting the flicker of the torchlight off the underground's light sources. "[Remember, my star, don't push yourself too hard]," she advised. "[We can take as long as we need to cleanse this realm.]"

Lassim nodded, his expression serious as he focused on the shrine before him.

The shrine itself was a stark structure, adorned with offerings and the skeletal remains of creatures long passed. The main point was that this particular shrine rested on top of a clay pot that once housed a unique fruit-bearing plant in its soil.

"[Don't worry. It's just a small test based on your ideas.]," he murmured, extending his hands towards the shrine.