Sin is an NPC, who first appears in the Chamber of Innocence in Act 5, after High Templar Avarius has been defeated. Sin plays a major role in part two and can be found in every part two town. Sin also introduces the Pantheon to the players. Pantheon souls can be brought to him to upgrade a Pantheon power via Divine Vessel.
- 1 Lore
- 2 The Pantheon
- 3 Dialogues
- 3.1 Greetings
- 3.2 Farewells
- 3.3 Act 5
- 3.4 Act 6
- 3.5 Act 7
- 3.6 Act 8
- 3.7 Act 9
- 3.8 Act 10
- 4 Related Items
- 5 Concept Art
- 6 References
A woman gave birth to two boys, Innocence and Sin. Innocence had an honest and pure heart. Sin was disobedient and he lied. When their mother broke the bread, she allowed Innocence to eat his fill, as a reward of his honest nature. Sin was cast the scraps to remind him of his bad behaviour. One day, Sin stole a fish, and beat his brother until he promised not to tell it to anyone. But Innocence could not keep his promise, and bore witness to the Mother of Two. It was decided that only the purification can cleanse Sin's corruption. So their village burned Sin, to purify him. While Sin became ash and smoke, he moved into the watching people. Sin forced the people turn on each other, and destroy themselves. "As town and titan burned, the sky turned dark with the ash of Sin. There, amongst the raging ruins of his home, Innocence swore an oath. No matter where the ashes of Sin fell, his purifying flames would rise to meet them."
After Sin became a God, he created the Beast, to free humanity from the tyranny of the Gods.
The player kills Gods during the part two. With Sin, the character can use their power after defeating them.
Sin tells many stories about other Gods, and the history of Wraeclast.
Voice lines Sin says when the player speaks to him.
- "May humanity flourish." (With multiple varying voice clips.)
Voice lines Sin says when the player closes the dialogue box.
- "Remember, humanity needs us."
I am Sin, the Forgotten One. Would that humanity could forget all of my kind. Perhaps with your help, that might still come to pass.
For now the blinding light has been dimmed, and darkness floods in to fill the void. The desperate and depraved set a feast for their lord incumbent, Kitava, the Ravenous One.
Should Kitava accept their invitation, there is but one thin sliver of hope for us all. My brother's Sign of Purity.
Look to it in the choking passages of Templar reverence. It shall be your torch when night falls at last.
The Sign of Purity
Deep in the Templar's Ossuary, in the company of the dead, there lies the Sign of Purity.
Innocence bled himself for the creation of that cruel and desperate weapon. Tempered in his own ruby ichor, it was forged to be a transcendent tool of punishment and purification. The Sign is a living agent of righteousness, or at least, the dubious kind of righteousness that my brother subscribes to.
Innocence found, in the first High Templar, a most faithful servant and gifted the Sign to him, so that it might be used in times of great need. The great need of Innocence believers, that is. Humanity's general well-being has never been of particular concern to my brother.
The Fall of Oriath
Though I am a god, I have not forgotten my humanity. I care for that which I once was. Kitava remembers nothing and cares for nothing but his own hunger and greed. He is an endless pit of gnashing teeth and churning guts.
While other gods rise on the mainland and fight for the meagre scraps of what it was, Kitava has the most fecund and formidable civilisation of this age at his disposal. He can feed when he likes and he grows even stronger with each morsel. All of Oriath shall soon belong to Kitava, and if that happens, he will rise even beyond our reach.
He lives, after a fashion. That pretentious little vessel of his served only to encourage his divine follies. I have procured him a more.. sensible host, one that should contain his excesses and temper that fragile ego of his.
Hear this, Brother! "From mind of lead to heart of gold, your soul shall be bound, your wrath shall grow cold."
Obtaining the Sign of Purity
An empire is nothing more than a standard pitched in the naked earth. The time has come for you to raise this standard upon the peak o false faith, the apex of Chitus Cathedral.
Drive it deep into that sacred stone. Mark the death of a faithless empire and slay the slavering kingdom that seeks to consume it.
There is no shame in falling to a god. Shame lies only in refusing to rise again. You shall soar, that much I'm permitted to foresee. You shall ascend to the peak of your loftiest mistake and from there you shall pluck a single, surviving hope from the jaws of immortal despair.
A ship sails for Lioneye's Watch not far from here. Be on it.
Despite your best efforts, beast Slayer, a splinter of hope remains. The very seed that brought my Beast into existence. The Dark Ember.
Never again shall it birth a life so magnificent as the Beast, yet a residue of that power still lingers. Enough to give us a fighting chance against the ravenous Kitava.
How do we obtain this Dark Ember? Three hearts were silenced, three hearts must sing again, one last time. In that final flickering of life, our saviour seed shall be born. All I need are three fine souls with which to stoke the flames. Shavronne of Umbra. Inquisitor Maligaro. Doedre the Darktongue. Three spirits of near unfathomable resilience and vigour, freed with the Beast's final exhalation. So let us begin the harvest!
Shavronne has come home, to Axiom. We shall give her the warm welcome she sincerely deserves.
The Essence of Umbra
If she is to be of any use to us, the Umbra's spirit must be wrenched from her mortal manifestation and lashed to our greater cause. That is your task.
For my part, I shall negotiate the terms of her cooperation. With a tragic kiss and lasting embrace, her essence shall pass into me as if she were a sweet breath from the mouth of my lover.
It is a sacrosanct sacrifice for all involved. Thankfully for you, all I ask is that you do what you clearly do best. Kill.
Ambition is the bane of mortality. It was through ambition that we gods transcended the thick mud and thin blood of our mundane birthrights. Ambition that drove us to sustain our divine selves through the subjugation of others.
Shavronne's soul is made up of one part ambition and two parts raw, unbounded passion. Such a volatile spark shall burn briefly and brightly in even the most deadened of hearts.
The Rise of the Gods
I shall put this simply, for in truth everything comes down to the simple act of planting a seed int he ground. The gods are rising because you slew the one creature that prevented them from doing so. Your name for it is "The Beast."
It was I who planted the seed in the rich soil beneath Highgate, who nurtured it, who watched it bloom into maturity, even as I succumbed to its mollifying darkness, to dream away eternity whilst the gentle Beast watched over us.
I would desire that we return to that blissful state, but my brother and sisters of deism shall never submit to banishment. They have tasted freedom once more and they shall not let go of this world until it is pried from their cold, dead hands.
The Beast was never a cruel master. It didn't want to destroy, to corrupt, to terrorise. It simply existed to exist. I made it that way.
I created a Beast that would free humanity from the tyranny of the gods. Yet all I really did was provide the perfect tool with which humanity could tyrannise itself.
The Father of War
From here to the Beast, the journey is long and arduous. You are strong, for a mortal, yet the beating of this war drum shall burst your human heart. So we must fortify it with something a little more divine in nature.
While a god may fall, their essence lingers, a quiet cacophony outside of your perception. That essence can be yours, to galvanise your will and invigorate your body.
I have the perfect first donor for us. Tukohama, the Father of War. In a pool once foul and fetid, he has raised a fortress now ferocious and fearsome. Best you pay him a visit before he also raises that ugly son of his, and unleashes him upon what remains of Wraeclast.
The Karui were a peaceful culture of farmers and fishermen, before fate thrust the great Tukohama upon them. It was he who put the stone axes in their hands and the hunger for conquest in their bellies.
Farmers quenched their dry fields in blood. Fishermen emptied their holds of fish and filled them with land-greedy hordes.
Battle by battle, war by war, Tukohama carved the steps that would carry him up a mountain of served heads, and into immortality. Tukohama’s axe is called Anger, his spear is called Greed, and their victims are the minds and hearts of all Karui.
The Brine King
Old, salty Tsoagoth, pickled in a thick brine of ignominious carnality. Vanity was Tsoagoth’s downfall, and I think he grew his shell just to shield himself from the same of it all.
It’s time you sailed out to that reef refuge of his, cracked his carapace, and dined on the divine meat beneath.
When I first met Tsoagoth, he was a seafaring chieftain, the beloved leader of a prosperous and sprawling fisher tribe. It was the curse of legacy that made him into the blasphemous Brine King. An endless madness of propagation and disappointment. All in the vain hope of recreating himself.
Fishwife after fishwife he took, and every one of them spawned a monster. A truly noble king would have surrendered his kingdom to cleaner blood. Alas, although Tsoagoth had many fine qualities, generosity was not one of them.
A maggot that festers and writhes in the fetid mud of the wettest lands. Ryslatha, the white worm that corrupts the very earth while her heart yearns to replenish her slaughtered brood.
Hers was a prolific tribe once, fat with peach and fecund with love. Then Tukohama's fire swept across her sacred land and her children were butchered by the madness of war.
Now the immortal mother has one waking thought. She will also ensure that her children are never harmed again. How? By making everyone's children her children.
The Origins of the Gods
There was a time before the Beast, bathed in the shadows of lost memory, when men and women like you could ascend. Through rareness of quality and the adoration of their people, these few could reach out into the quickening mists of immortality and grasp the power of godhood.
Mind you, transcendence is never easy. Like the pains of childbirth, it reeks of agony, tragedy and sacrifice. The sacrifice most often being of one's humanity. That is simply the way of it. Those of us who seek the immortal throne live long enough to see ourselves become truly monstrous.
Let us go hunting. This time amongst the ruins of an encampment most familiar to you… once inhabited by your friends, the Azmeri.
Hmmm… Ralakesh. He’s ruthless and cruel, with cunning unfathomable. Yet he bears one defining weakness. A fear he forged into chains of his own keeping. His is the terror of grasping too much and having it all slip through his fingers. It makes him irrational, and therefore vulnerable.
The Master of the Million Faces
Ralakesh, the illustrious "Master of a Million Faces". I call him the God of Hide and Seek.
While other deities waged wars, spread their seed, and laid waste to whole empires, Ralakesh perched on his throne in a dark palace of ebony, choked with incense blinded by obdedience and deafened by a senseless cacophony of brass gongs.
Thankfully, he never had the courage to peek over the high walls he'd built, else the world might have been in trouble.
The Mother of Despair
I wonder if Gruthkul would still grieve for her children if she knew the truth.
The Spinner of Shadows had no aspirations until Gruthkul's daughters plotted against her. They saw her power over the people, her miraculous potions, her intoxicating lusts.
They feared Arakaali, thought she might threaten their legacy. Yet that's the curious thing about spiders. They only leave their web when you force them to.
A temptress and a predator. Vaal legends say she crawled up from the blackest of pits during the creation of the world.
No, her beginnings were far more mundane, a mortal harlot whose endless lust for loin and lecherous delight saw her transformed into the very image of her dark desires.
‘The Spinner of Shadows’ they once called her. She sees herself as a regular goddess of love, and has the romantically forged temple to prove it.
That’s where you’’ find her. Yet there’s little romance to the lady herself. At least, I doubt the corpses that now embrace her carapace would think so.
The Spinner of Shadows
Answering the call of a royal invitation, I visited the Spinner of Shadows as a emissary for a small fragile alliance of gods. Mostly weak deities huddling together in terror of being consumed by their greaters. At this time, Queen Arakaali ruled an empire, and so invited me to gaze upon her mighty works with appropriate wonder.
If I'd looked past this pretense, I may have chanced to see her hidden desire to have me share her bed. For years I lay trapped in her webbed sheets. Some days she enjoyed my prowess, other days we enjoyed each other.
Yet, this illusion of love and leisure simply veiled the morbid reality that I was not free to leave. I languished under her bewitching spell until the day the spider was betrayed by her own flies, and sealed within that temple of her own fevered making.
Doedre Darktongue (Pre-Essence of the Hag)
Doedre Darktongue is the insidious infeciton that threatens to make septic the great and terrible wound that is Sarn.
However, any certainty that I had as to her exact whereabouts has been sundered by the sheer stench of her presence. We shall have to deduce her location from those who know the area best, these locals that cling to Sarn like hungry maggots.
After Killing Doedre Darktongue
Once more into the breach, and once more we return victorious. Although, I have to admit, I did not relish the sensation of imbibing that foul witch's soul. I felt decidedly... unclean.
And none too soon. Every hour Kitava's strength grows, and the longer he and the other gods dwell in this land, the less is humanity's chance of survival.
Reflection of Terror (Quest)
In Izaro's grotesque little garden, you'll find a old friend of mine.
The yawning maw that is Yugul...but a self-portrait of what that pathetic creature has come to believe about the nature of fear. Those who look upon him see their own fears reflected in his horrifying Visage.
Vaal scholars seemed compelled to answer all manner of strange and troubling questions. Yugul was one such scholar. Whilst plumbing the depths of humanity, he came to believe that there was no truer expression of humanity than pure terror.
He would induce terror in children and then capture their reactions within eldritch mirrors, devices of his own creation that would petrify fear for extended study.
Through his gallery of reflected terror, Yugul came to understand human nature so well that he was able to manipulate his way into the Vaal halls of leadership, and eventually grew so feared and renowned that he ascended into godhood.
Self-loving Solaris. All the light in the world, yet blinded by her own pride.
Not once did she pause to question the truth of her sister's betrayal. Instead she gloated over her sister's transgressions, proclaiming herself greater and more honourable than Lunaris could ever be.
I suppose one shouldn't be surprised when a sun deity takes the higher ground.
The Eternal Sun (Pre-Solar Eclipse)
If we are to see the dawn of a new era for humankind, the sun must be taught to behave herself.
Upon that mighty span between Sarn's left hand and its right, Solaris burns to consuem every single moment of existence sparing no thought for life and its needs, she would see the world parched barren before she yields to reason.
The sun must be allowed to set so that it may rise again as a blessing, not a curse.
One of two sisters who ruled the most populous and powerful of the ancient Azmerian tribes. Solaris, was thought to guide the sun across the sky with threads of shimmering gold, whilst Lunaris saw to the wax and wane of moon with a sickle of purest silver.
It was a peaceful partnership, until the trickster Tangmazu, happened upon their domain. In turning sister against sister he saw to the massacre of thousands whilst concealing the source of their futile feud beyond all reckoning.
Feel no pity for the moon. She is a cold and distant fool, far less radiant than she would suppose.
The Eternal Moon (Pre- Lunar Eclipse)
We approach the zenith of our divine hunt, upon the bridge that chokes the great, wet throat of Sarn.
Lunaris, in her cold fury, has forgotten that the warm sun of morning is as life-giving as the cooling damp of evening.
The empire Lunaris dreams of shall be lit by moon and twinkling stars, and life itself shall wither away in the perpetual night.
Within the ruins of Highgate Refinery you shall find it. Trarthan Powder, a slightly more unstable blend to the kind found within the celebratory rockets and illuminations of Trarthus, this devious mixture of crumbled chemistry was once used to blast holes through even the thickest mountainsides. It will ensure that our mixture has the brute force required.
Though one should tread carefully within the refinery, for General Adus and his elite legionnaires sought refuge there during the first moments of Malachai's Cataclysm. lf they remain, they will be creatures of darkest discipline. Strong men in health and life made even stronger in corruption and death.
A traveler on the winds, Garukhan pridefully plundered the sky for its secrets. To her mind, wisdom could be found in the eye of a hurricane.
Please understand that Garukhan is not an evil being. She was once my friend and companion. Her beauty astonished me as her aspirations inspired me. Yet I must forgo my sentiments for the sake of humankind.
Like winds erode the sandstone, Garukhan has been warped by the same powers she enslaved. This is not my goddess that you shall slay. And if I continue to say it, I might very well come to believe it.
It was never meant to transpire this way...
My Beast was born to be a thing of beauty. A crowning jewel to rest upon humanity's head. I... I wanted to give your kind a chance for peace, a chance to play atop the great stage. No longer pawns to a pantheon of petty, slavering gods...
It was only ever defending itself, the fault lies within the twisted hearts of those who would betray their own humanity.
Not even I could anticipate the cataclysms my pet wrought on Wraeclast. Both Vaal and Eternal. Ruins in the pages of history. And the others... trailing back across the aeons.
There is blood on my hands, exile, the innocent blood of millions, and try as I might, the strains just won't wash off.
The Beast (Quest, Recurring Nightmare)
The Dark Ember remains nestled deep within the putrid flesh of my dead Beast. With many of Highgate's tunnels now collapsed, we must forge another way inside. Before us lies a weak point in the Beast's flank. It is an ancient wound wrought by that Vaalish overreacher, Doryani.
The wound was healed shut by a thick membrane but the right decoction should dissolve the tissue and allow us inside. Of course, for a cordial of such potency I shall require two ingredients of utmost rarity.
First, our viscous concoction shall require Basilisk Acid, a princely poison which drips from the caustic heart of the Basilisk, and Tarathan Powder, an explosive substance oft used in the mining of Virtue gems.
With these two bitter harvests, I shall brew something worth of eroding the membrane of my decaying pet.
The Dark Ember
The Ember is a seed... the black core of the Beast's heart. It is the pure, undiluted essence of corruption. Everything my pet once was, all of its power, the stupefying effect it had on us gods, it all dwells within this Dark ember.
With this we shall lay Kitava to waste. The once starved god shall fill his gut and pass on into oblivion. Kitava will fall and the Ember shall disperse into nothing more than ash dancing across the cobbled rooftops of Oriath.
The Black Core
Those souls we now harbor, as individuals, they cannot hope to provide the onslaught of power that birthing our Dark Ember will require.
But together... together each soul shall shift and change, they shall be knit into one creature, filled with animosity. Our unholy union will excite the Beast, and bring forth our'Dark Ember from its rotten womb.
You should steel yourself, dear friend, for once the cork is plucked from the bottle, the whole world will change.
Queen of Winds
I weep for my poor Garukhan. Together we experienced the loftiest moments that this world could offer.
Alas, it was my heavy heart that she could no longer bear. I knew her pride would one day be the storm that would ravage my precious humanity. In truth, it was for Garukhan that I sowed the Dark Ember within the depths of Highgate.
When love cannot be slain it must be laid down to sleep.
Queen of Sands
It is not something i deign to speak of often, but this goddess, this creature, she was once the flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. I rose into the clouds and fell into the arms of their queen, the beautiful Garukhan.
Now if you think that mortal marriages are difficult to navigate, try an immortal one. We parted ways, yet not before my young Queen of the Sands was born into his world of filth and horror.
Now you see how I must suffer for the sake of humanity, to lay mine own daughter upon the sacrificial altar.
Basilisk Acid drips from the hearts of those venomous monsters, though I cannot blame them for their disposition. They are tragic creatures. Theirs is a sorry tale more closely tied to my own than I care to dwell upon. Alas, the forging of my Dark Ember produced some rather unfortunate byproducts.
But we shall not see any success if I am to dwell on those past errors.
It is good to see that you survived my friend, but then, you have fared far worse - the froth of a violent ocean should be no problem for you!
Before we make our move, we must know what we are dealing with. I send you, exile, as a scout, as the only scout that would stand a chance moving through the shifting forms of this nightmare. You must discover where Kitava resides, only then can we issue our final blow.
The Dark Ember
You needn't fret, the Dark Ember is still safely in my possession and will remain so until our final confrontation with Kitava.
That carnivorous blasphemy will fall like a log cut from the darkest of forests, and we shall watch him burn as Oriath, and the rest of this world breathes a sigh of relief.
Lilly Roth is a noble... hm, how do you say it... scallywag?
I have witnessed the rise and fall of many great men and women over the aeons, and Lillyis well on her way to being amongst the very best of them. I suspect on day her name shall be sung in salty taverns the world around.
I must remember to keep on her good side now that she can see me. The beautiful pirate princess, hunting down the great god Sin would make for a fantastic tale, I'm sure, but one I would rather have remain in the pages of fiction.
Then it is as I feared. Kitava's strength has grown insurmountable in our absence, and his horns now deny us entry to his feeding trough. Evidently the hungry god has grown picky about what crumbs now travel towards his burgeoning throat...
It is this strength that concerns me. I have spoken with our friend Bannon over there, a wilful vessel of my misguided brother. I knew eventually we would need to enlist my brother’s services, though I had hoped we need not do so this soon, yet it seems that we have no other choice.
We must invoke my dormant brother, slumbering within Bannon’s frame. Kitava's horns are a thing of great corruption which only Innocence's purity can dispel.
Before we proceed, I feel I must confide something in you. Bannon wishes me not to speak of it, as he is willing for the sacrifice, however, I feel you should know...
Once we invoke Innocence, once we dredge him up from his cocoon inside the soul of Bannon, the man shall cease to be. Only the god shall remain.
Do you understand what I say, exile? If we take this path, Bannon will die... excruciatingly so - burnt with purity from the inside out. As I said, Bannon is willing to commit his life to this cause, but perhaps you should say your farewells before we move past the point of no return?
Aside from my own presence, I no longer feel the vibrations of other gods. Though there may yet be more out there, for now, Wraeclast can breathe a sigh of relief.
However, we must turn our sights to Kitava who still gorges himself on those poor souls trapped in Oriath. You have drunk your fill of my kind, the essence of deity courses through your veins, waiting to be expunged upon a chosen victim. We can only hope will be strength enough to face that demoniac of a god.
Before Fighting Kitava
This is it. It all comes down to this moment to finally put an end to Kitava. Go Exile, together we will save humankind!
Finishing off Kitava's Heart (in Combat)
May a new Dawn Arise.
After Killing Kitava
It's over... We emerge victorious... It was always a fool's errands, yet somehow, your courage has carried us through.
I congratulate you, my friend. Your world may have exiled you, but there will always be a place for you at my table. You have given humanity a fighting chance. Though darkness still covers the face of the earth, there is now a ray of light to pierce it. The insatiable appetite of Kitava has been ruined, and you, you are no exile! Why, you are a hero, worthy of praise. May your legend live on, into eternity.
Come, let us return to the others, they will be needing as many hands as possible for cleaning up this city...
Sin's RebirthSin's Rebirth
Stibnite FlaskLasts 5.00 Seconds
Consumes 10 of 30 Charges on use
100% increased Evasion RatingRequires Level 14Creates a Smoke Cloud on UseGain Unholy Might during Flask Effect
Immunity to Ignite during Flask effect
Removes Burning on useAnd from the ashes he rose, like a black cloud.
The Sin of one became the Sin of many.Right click to drink. Can only hold charges while in belt. Refills as you kill monsters.