#rwr

As she laid on the bed, bear in hand, and let her worries melt away she began to hear footsteps coming down towards her new room. In a flash she stuffed the bear under the blankets and rushed to grab Bloodthirst. As her cultists entered she approached them, with a calm and sadistic smile. The cultists enter her room, their expressions far from pleased, “Lady Orin, we must speak.” Their venom leaking through every word.

Orin did her best to put on her most vile, sadistic, evil face even if she currently was not feeling as though she were Bhaal’s daughter, “Oh?” She said, matching her normal tone despite not knowing why her followers are here, “Have you come to disturb my devotion, to damage my display? Come, do not stand silently, speak!”

Her cultists continued, “We are furious at you! While Bhaal’s True Chosen,” a term she hated, Bhaal may have once chosen her sister yet now his will is undecided, “is out in the streets, killing and searching, you waste away here. You devote your time to yourself and not to our Lord, you go above ground to find paint and not to slaughter, and you do not even pray!”

Orin looks on at them, annoyed they’re accusing her of failing their lord, “Is that all you wished to say to me? That you do not hear my prayers, that you criticize the art I make for our lord even as I still work on putting his divinity onto canvas, and you critique me for my sister’s doing?!” Orin glances to Bloodthirst, “Perhaps I’ll bring her your head and tell her of your annoyance?”

The cultists, none of whom she remotely knew or cared for, didn’t relent, “Lady Orin, we tire of waiting for the true Chosen to appear. Set aside these childish delusions of yours and see to it that the true Chosen is here by the morrow.” Their voices grow tired as they begin to leave, “If she does not appear, we will carve our next sacrament in your skull.”

Orin scoffed at that, should any of them even dream of putting their blades in their flesh she’d rearrange their spines. Though, as silence returned to her room she began to worry. She…she thought there was more time, there had to be more time, she needed more time! She just got her sister back, she can’t lose her now! No,no,no,no,no,no,no, NO! Not now, not when everything is almost perfect! Her sister is back! She just got her back! WHY!? WHY BHAAL!?

Orin throws herself back into her bed and grabs Sir Bearington tightly. She didn’t know what she could do to stall more?  What else could she possibly do?! Maybe she could kill the dissenters? No, Bhaal would be furious and she’d lose her chance at being Chosen. She can’t run or hide, again Bhaal would not stand for it.

She loudly sighed into Sir Bearington and tried so hard to figure out any way around this, yet never finding success. She looked to the bear as if he would somehow come to life and answer Orin’s problem, but alas he would stay lifeless. As much as he has helped her in the past, this time he will be woefully useless. 

In her desperation, Orin walked over to her desk. She pulled out a parchment and began to write. She had first thought about making a plea, some kind of request for help, but she knew that wouldn’t work. 

Orin began to write and decided it would simply be best to inform her sister about the new situation. How the duel will happen tomorrow or else. She was not malicious or evil, she couldn’t do that right now. Her words were laced with sympathy, her fear clear on every letter as her handwriting had none of the flourishes she normally would include. Orin knew that Halsin would not survive if the duel did not happen and made sure to include that in the end, and she begged her sister to please oh please not come today. To wait till tomorrow, to give the two maybe one last day of peace.

In that, she also left an address. She knew Shadowheart was close to her sister, so perhaps leading them to where the Sharran’s are would be a good way to keep her sister from coming right to the temple and dueling.