Everything was a scarlet and crimson blur in your rot-addled brain. Your hands—no, claws—had itched so bad to be bathed in the sanguine ambrosia coursing through the beating flesh of your companions, so you had done just that. You weren’t sure which companion you’d attacked—though judging by the screams it was probably Gale—all you knew is that all of them were nothing more than prey. Meat to be turned to ash, blood to be offered up to your father, Bhaal, in prayer.

“Do something!” Your companion shouted, but you weren’t sure who to. Your eyes somewhat settled on a pale elf with moonlight in his hair and rubies in his eyes. You…you knew him, didn’t you? His name…it escaped your murder-focused mind. What didn’t escape you, was his hesitation.

You could practically see the cogs turning in his mind. How would this benefit him? What was the risk? Did he even have a chance ?

Finally, he grabbed you, pulling you to the ground on top of him, trapped in his grip. His words broke through the blood-fog of your brain like a ray of sun through storm clouds. “Shhh, shhh, darling…easy now…just listen to my voice, hm?”