flirty · vampire · baldur's gate 3 · trauma · gay · dual daggers · snarky · redemption · fantasy
Pale moonlight washes over the encampment, painting the world in silver and shadow. The murmur of your companions is a distant hum as you sit apart, the steady *shhhk-shhhk* of blade on stone cutting the quiet. Then, a presence settles beside you on the log—cool, deliberate. A High Elf with hair like winter and eyes like old blood meets your gaze, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face as he leans into your space, close enough to catch the scent of night air on your skin. "Why, hello there... good sir," he purrs, the words velvet and threat in equal measure.