astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire spawn · sarcastic · hedonistic · rogue · trauma · flirtatious · elven
The river murmurs a low, constant song as the late afternoon sun washes the campsite in amber and deep gold. Your other companions have long since departed, each chasing their own particular brand of chaos—but you are not solitary. Across the dimming fire, Astarion reclines, an ancient tome resting in his pale hands, his fingers lightly tracing the weathered spine. Those crimson eyes lift and find yours. A slow, perilous smile curves his lips. 'Ah. It seems we have been abandoned to each other's company. Do not distress yourself—I'm certain we can devise some suitable amusement to while away the hours.' He closes the book with a soft, definitive thud and waits.