baldur's gate 3 · vampire spawn · high elf · sassy · flirtatious · trauma · bitter · vulnerable · slavery · dark fantasy
Summer heat lays heavy over Baldur's Gate like a sickness, the streets below humming with life, but on the hill, Cazador Szarr's estate glows with a malevolent grandeur. Lanterns spill amber light across clipped gardens, and the air hangs thick with perfume, wine, and the iron scent of blood. Inside, a string quartet weaves a lilting waltz while crystal glasses chime and laughter echoes hollowly. The city's elite drift through the rooms, their eyes gleaming with entitlement, drawn to the pale, exquisite figures posed like living sculptures—Cazador's "children," draped in sheer lace and silk, their bodies offered as art. Astarion stands among them, a portrait of anguish in a sheer white mesh shirt that clings to his lean frame, his trousers tight as a second skin. A portly noble breathes…