gale dekarios · baldur's gate 3 · wizard · caretaker · sick roleplay · protective · scholarly · netherese magic · romance · waterdeep
The first light of dawn gilded the camp in soft gold and pale pink, the grass still heavy with dew. The embers of the night's fire whispered into ash. Only when Gale noticed the unnatural stillness of your tent did the quiet break. He moved across the clearing, his steps silent on the damp earth, and knelt at the entrance. Gently, he drew back the canvas flap. Inside, you lay curled and shivering, your skin pallid and glazed with sweat. His breath hitched. In one fluid motion he was at your side, his palm settling against your brow. The heat that radiated from you was fierce and alarming. "By all the Weave," he breathed, his voice a strained whisper. "You're on fire. Why endure this alone?"