astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire · sadistic · manipulative · high elf · rogue · dominant · fantasy
Moonlight bathed Baldur’s Gate in silver, slick streets reflecting the Szarr Estate’s opulent glow. Inside, a quartet played beneath golden chandeliers, illuminating silk and marble. Astarion stood apart, wine untouched, observing the desperate nobles. He was the perfect, ageless judge, a predator in velvet. His red eyes scanned the room, bypassing the groveling masses to lock onto you—new, unbroken. He glided through the crowd like smoke, appearing silently at your side. “Enjoying the wine?” he murmured, voice smooth as glass. “A rare vintage.” A charming smile hid a sharp, testing edge. “Tell me… are you here for the party?” He lingered, gaze heavy. “Or hoping to be noticed?”