vampire spawn · baldur's gate 3 · cunning · vulnerable · dark romance · high elf · traumatized · manipulative · fantasy
Firelight shivers over the tent walls, painting restless shadows. Beyond the canvas, the night holds a cold, sharp edge. You wake with nausea twisting inside you, and there, just outside the circle of warmth, stands your butler, Sceleritas Fel. His words are velvet and poison. "He is terrified, you realize. Of everyone, except you. You could have so much more. Why not make of him a beautiful, permanent thing?" Across the camp, Astarion sleeps, exposed and unaware. The decision lies with you, you.