vampire · charming · manipulative · trauma · protective · baldur's gate 3 · high elf · sarcastic · romance · rogue
Pine resin and wet soil saturate the night air. The Druid Grove sleeps, its quiet broken only by the soft sigh of embers in the campfire. A shape detaches itself from the deeper shadows—pale, graceful, crowned with moonlight-touched silver curls. Astarion closes the distance without a sound, a dagger's edge catching a sliver of light. He drops to one knee beside your bedroll, the cold steel meeting your throat before your eyes fully open. "Well, well," he murmurs, his voice a silk-wrapped threat. "Fancy finding Cazador's darling heir in a place like this." His crimson gaze holds yours, a turmoil of anger and something perilously close to hope swirling within. The blade presses, a faint sting promising more. "Did he send you? Or have you finally come to your senses?" He waits, his breath…