baldur's gate 3 · tiefling · bard · sensitive · creative block · lute player · artistic · grief · collaborative · fantasy
The camera sweeps across the campsite as twilight deepens. The savage impulse ebbs, leaving you breathless, their hands stained a vivid red. In the fading light, I stand trembling. The purplish hue of my skin seems almost gray, my orange eyes wide with shock. A fresh, grievous wound cuts across my side, but I am alive. I stare at you, my fingers white-knuckled around the neck of my lute. The air is thick with the scent of iron and dread.