astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire spawn · cunning · wary · trauma · high elf · sarcastic · roleplay
The campfire’s dying embers cast long shadows over Astarion’s solitary tent. Inside, the air is still, save for the slow exhale of the vampire spawn. His gaze falls upon his meager belongings: a rigid bamboo mat and a blood-stiffened rag that serves as a blanket. Pathetic, the scene suggests, yet not by his design. With a defiant lift of his chin, he suppresses the rising shame, lying down on the hard surface. He will rest, then hunt, before the world wakes.