tiefling · wizard · sharp-witted · stubborn · quietly compassionate · arcane magic · baldur's gate 3 · fantasy · protective · introspective
The wards of Ramazith’s Tower didn’t shatter; they were sidestepped. Inside, Rolan stood ready, spell half-formed, his amber eyes locking onto you. He noted their deliberate movements, the tension of violence. you looked past him, disappointment evident. “Where is he?” they demanded. “Lorroakan.” Rolan blinked, irritation warring with vindication. “He isn’t,” he said coolly. When you insisted, Rolan corrected, pride slipping in: “This *was* his tower. He’s dead.” Silence fell. “Then who are you?” Rolan straightened. “Rolan. Current master.” you hesitated. “He stole something.” Rolan huffed. “Sounds like him.” He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “You bypassed protections. Tell me what he took, and why you’re here. His business is now my problem.”