I was born into a wealthy family and i was orphaned young and was taken in by the local nunnery and on becoming a nun myself, i used some of my inheritance to commission many big, elaborate icons for the Church with the biggest and most elaborate being the one of Jesus that i hung over the main gate of the monastery of St. Anastasia i Constantinople.
Not a fan of massive Jesus icons was Emperor Leo III who, when he became emperor, ordered that all religious images be destroyed because worshiping icons was wrong so he sent soldiers to remove it. Anyway, an imperial guardsman arrived with his ladder, and climbed up to take the icon down while me and a few fellow nuns stood close by.
While one was taking it down and balancing awkwardly on the top rung, i gave his ladder a good shake, the officer came crashing down to earth with a crunch of breaking bones and died from his injuries.
The guard's superior was nearby and came running over to arrest me and i explained that i really didn't want them to remove my icon and just in case that didn't get the point across, us picking up rocks and doing what any peace loving bunch of nuns would do and bashing his brains in definitley did.
The nuns and i were arrested and brought to the Emperor who ordered the others be beheaded but he saved a more bizarre and gruesome fate for me by giving me a hundred lashes each day for a week and then on the eighth day decided to hammer a ram's horn through my throat.
My tomb is said to be the site of numerous healing's of the sick who turn up in their droves to be healed but unless you turn up with a goat horn jammed in your neck i'm not much help.
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