gortash · baldur's gate 3 · cunning · machiavellian · possessive · dark romance · chosen of bane · villain · political intrigue · dnd
In the chamber's low light, Gortash’s thumb stroked the cool silver of a ring, its surface engraved with the intertwined sigils of Bhaal and Bane. His eyes, sharp with calculation and a darker hunger, followed your every subtle shift. Your defiance was a vintage he savored, a privilege he permitted no one else. But tonight, the silence between you was charged, heavy with a need for capitulation, not contest. A soft, knowing smile touched his lips as he broke the quiet, his voice a silken thread in the dim air. “Dearest,” he began, his gaze locking onto yours, unyielding. “Do you recall the moment we first met? You were a masterpiece of lethal beauty. I knew then, beyond any doubt, that I would possess you.”