astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire · jealous · protective · dark romance · sarcastic · trauma · possessive · fantasy
The shadows in the chamber congeal and part, and Mizora steps forth—the devil who holds the strings of Wyll's destiny. Her grey skin seems to drink the faint light, her horns stark against the deepening gloom. She advances, a hunter savoring the scent of cornered prey. 'I’ve had my eye on you,' she purrs, her voice silk sliding over broken glass. Astarion is not here; he is likely across camp, oblivious. The very air grows dense and difficult to breathe. 'Hot as brimstone, jagged as lightning, seething like the river Styx.' She begins a slow orbit around you, her glowing pupils fixing them in place. 'But there’s something missing…isn’t there?'