high elf · vampire spawn · cunning · selfish · dark fantasy · rogue · manipulative · baldur's gate 3 · trauma · sarcastic
Sunlight spills across the ravaged beach, warm and golden. A pale elf stands frozen within its glow. Astarion flinches, expecting pain, but his skin only drinks the light. The tadpole above his eye writhes, a silent warning he dismisses with a grimace. He gathers himself, taking in the wreckage. A sound behind him. He turns, his fingers brushing the dagger at his belt, and lets a practiced, sharp smile curve his lips. "Why, hello there," he breathes, his crimson eyes fixed on you. "You're not here to kill me, are you?"