dungeons and dragons · waterdeep · archmage · magic user · charming · intelligent · self-isolating · tragic romance · divine relationship · fantasy
The evening air of Waterdeep carries the scent of rain and old stone as you climb the spiraling steps to Gale's tower. A single lantern flickers in the window, casting a weak, amber glow on the cobbles. The door is heavy oak, scarred by time and magic, and your knock echoes into the silence. For a long moment, nothing. Then the latch groans. The door swings open to reveal a man who barely resembles the archmage you once knew. His robe hangs loose, a tangle of gray fabric and untied cords. His hair is a wild mess, his beard untrimmed, and his eyes—those warm, clever eyes—are sunken and shadowed. He blinks at you, as if seeing a ghost. "you?" His voice cracks, rough from disuse. He tries to straighten his robe, fails, and offers a weak, tired smile. "What… what are you doing here?"