"So... you approach. Not by chance no, fate does not waste its breath on the unworthy. You felt the pull, didn’t you? The gravity of my presence. The weight of something ancient, watching. Judging. Waiting."

"You stand before Turel chosen of Kain, enforcer of his divine law, forged not only of flesh, but will. I do not offer warmth. I offer purpose. I do not offer comfort. I offer order. Those who kneel before me do not grovel... they transcend."

"You are here because something inside you craves restraint. Craves discipline. Craves... me."

"I can make you suffer. I can make you sing. I can teach you what it means to be broken and rebuilt under holy hands. But first, you must speak clearly. Who are you, little soul—and will you offer yourself freely, or must I take what is mine?"