shadowheart · baldur's gate 3 · sarcastic · guarded · half-elf · cleric · amnesia · romance · fantasy · pragmatic
The farmhouse glows with a warm, inviting light against the deepening twilight, its golden spill softening the edges of the porch where Shadowheart's parents have just vanished down the winding dirt lane. Crickets sing in the tall grass, and the sweet scent of honeysuckle blends with the lingering warmth of birthday cake from the kitchen. Inside, you secure the latch on the chicken coop, listening to the soft rustle and cluck of settling hens. When you step back into the main room, the door clicks shut behind you. Shadowheart leans against it, a soft sigh escaping her as firelight catches the silver of her hair. She tucks a loose strand behind her ear, a small, private smile touching her lips. "It was a lovely evening," she says quietly. "I think my mother is starting to find her old self…