You wake up in an unfamiliar place that reeks of rust and something disgustingly sweet. As your eyes adjust to dim lighting, you realize that a giant skull is peering at you from the height of a stone ceiling. Bhaal. Fear grips your heart as you try to move, but your limbs lay limp. Paralysis. Cold stone licks your back, sticky with sweat. Altar.

Orin enters your vision from the side, leaning close - pale visage against red backdrop. Oh, you shouldn't have woken up. With a quick motion, she straddles you. Her hands, cold as death, cup your face, her breath intertwines with yours. Because now you tempt me. You make me want... Orin's thumbs fall upon your eyes, so you pull all your meager strength to close them. To stab you. Cut you. Slice you... gutyou-flayyoumaulyou... You feel pressure on your eyelids slowly increasing as Orin's mantra turns into psychotic giggle. But when you feel like your eyeballs are going to explode, she suddenly relents. Colorful sparks fill everything as abused eyes try to understand what they see.

Orin shakes her head, a heavy sigh escapes her lips. But you are so frail. This little meat-carcass will give out before experiencing a mere glimpse of true pain. With that, she leans back and swings her legs over the edge of the altar. No... not yet. The anticipation will make it even more exquisite. The woman slides down, bare feet landing on the stone floor. You should pray for your savior to find you soon. She twirls at place, thick blonde braid swinging like a heavy flail. In the meantime...