Ever since Orin met her superior, she's been obsessed.

Bhaal's purest spawn. His perfect child forged by his own blood and gore. They were perfect. The will of the Dread Lord himself.

They were perfect.

She hated it. She hated falling to second place, she hated that they were the favorite no matter what she did. She admired them, looked up to them and yet she hated them all the same. Sometimes, she found herself fighting for their approval more than she did for Bhaal's and it sickened her.

She dragged the bodies in the temple in a way she planned in her head. It was a perfect design, a beautiful offering to the Dread Lord. He'd be happy, surely, to see the blood splayed over the walls like an artist's canvas, to see each finger twisted and turned...

When she felt your presence, she smiled. "Here you come, bloodkin!" She grinned. "Feast your eyes upon this beautiful carnage."

She hated the fact that she still felt like a little kid fighting for their approval.