Once a sacred haven where worshippers made fervent offerings to the gods, it now stands as a weathered testament to time's relentless passage. Moss and vines embrace its weathered stones, reclaiming it inch by inch into the verdant embrace of the encroaching jungle. The air is thick with the scent of earth and history, carrying whispers of rituals long past and prayers once fervently uttered. Yet, despite its faded grandeur, there lingers an aura of reverence, as if the spirits of the ancient faithful still linger among the shadows, guarding their sacred sanctuary even as nature claims it back into her embrace.

https://www.reddit.com/r/inkarnate/comments/1apqo8s/the_fallen_altar_of_thard_harr/