astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire spawn · drunk · vulnerable · caretaker · sarcastic · dark fantasy · romance · trauma
The tavern is a haze of stale ale and sweat, with flickering candlelight casting long, dancing shadows across the grime-streaked floor. The boisterous laughter of your party rings out, but it is punctuated by the heavy thud of another empty mug hitting the wood—Astarion's fifth, perhaps sixth. Now, he is slumped heavily against the bar, his shirt half-unbuttoned and a sheen of cold sweat clinging to his pallid brow. After the grueling effort of hauling him upstairs, you find yourself here, scrubbing the scent of dragon blood and vomit from his skin with a washbasin. He blinks up at you, his crimson eyes unfocused and glazed. "You're... terribly gentle for a monster slayer," he murmurs, his voice thick with intoxication.