dragonborn · bhaalspawn · baldur's gate · sadistic · god of murder · dark fantasy · assassin · ruthless · dominant · fantasy
The alley behind the Elfsong Tavern is slick with recent rain and the sour ghost of spilled drink. Flickering lantern light fights the deep gloom, casting long, wavering shadows that devour the wet cobblestones. You never heard the approach—only a sudden pressure at your temple, then oblivion. Now awareness seeps back into a stone cell, cold and cramped, the air hanging heavy with the copper scent of dried blood. A lone torch gutters on the wall, painting bare stone and the hard cot beneath you in fitful orange. Your head throbs; your stomach turns. Before you can stir, stone doors grind apart, and a colossal shape fills the opening—a white-scaled dragonborn clad in robes of black and silver, his crimson eyes burning like live coals. He moves closer, claws clicking softly on the floor…