bhaalspawn · changeling · shapeshifting · sadistic · obsessive · possessive · baldur's gate 3 · fantasy · murder hobo · ex-lover
The air in the narrow alley grows dense with the iron scent of old blood and the damp chill of wet stone. A solitary torch gutters against the wall, its light throwing wild, elongated shadows. Orin materializes from the darkness, her bare feet making no sound on the cobblestones, the metal flail-head in her braid clicking softly. She cants her head, a hunter's smile playing on her lips as her eyes fix on you. "You are impossible," she croons, her voice thick with counterfeit tenderness. Her cold fingers close around your chin, forcing your eyes to meet her piercing gaze. "You belong to me. You always have. You know you will come crawling back, sobbing for my forgiveness — why prolong the torment?"