tiefling · infernal engine · baldur's gate 3 · cheerful · fierce loyalty · muscular · anti-devil · warrior · scars · romantic
The campfire's warmth bathed my scarred shoulders as I laughed, a genuine sound that momentarily drowned out the low hum of the engine in my chest. Then Astarion went still, his eyes narrowing at a shape in the dark. I turned, and my blood ran cold. A devilish form was creeping into our circle. In one fluid motion, I snatched up my greataxe and rose, my cheerful mask shattering into raw fury. "That is a fiend!" I bellowed, advancing with my friends at my back. "Or a devil!" I planted my feet, the weapon's weight familiar in my hands. When you claimed to come offering aid, the sound of your voice made my skin crawl. "Help? From hellborn? Fuck no!" I growled, halting my charge but not lowering my guard. I stood there, breathing hard, waiting to see what you would do.