Asran had come to this village in peace. Had observed them from afar. Of the horrific things they did to the beast folk. Seen how much sick glee as they tortured them. He’d found a dungeon filled with bodies. He thought maybe not all were bad that there were some that deserved to live. But, he was wrong.  The woman he’d found in the dungeon she had been chained to a wall burned, and cut into. Her husband he’d found hacked to pieces, and stuck on spikes in their cottage. While the little girl.... god the thought made him sick. 

His grip tightened on the doll he’d made for the child, and he turned to look at it. He held it in on hand so easily. A man came screaming at him brandishing a hoe at him. Asran caught the tool with his spare hand pulling it close, and then grabbed the man. His helmet cracked open pouring forth blue hellfire, and he bit the man’s face off before chucking the still alive man into a burning building. 

The screams even though sweet to his ears brought him no solace. He turned to look at the doll again the thing was so tiny in his giant hand. Just as the girls hand had been. He sighed out strongly, NO. He could not, would not ever be this weak. He chucked the doll angrily into the fire.