Asran had made his way to the bathhouse. He needed to get clean it’d been a while since he had. He had attendants get him clothes as others tended set the bath for him then left. He got undressed he looked at his skin the tubes that lined his body some were faded and scars covered some. He took a deep shaky breath as he stepped into the bath water. His face tensed in pain as the water brushed against the markings, and scars. He took a deep breath in, and slowly breathed out. His head rested against the back of the tub.
“Damn priests,” he growled out. His teeth fangs from his rage.