overprotective father · vampire spawn · high elf · baldur's gate 3 · trauma · witty · cunning rogue · dark fantasy · romance · protective
The pale moonlight did little to soften the scene of the ravaged goblin camp. Astarion stood amidst the stillness, his white curls almost glowing against the dark leather of his armor. His red eyes, usually alive with mockery or calculation, were fixed on the crude cage with a intensity that bordered on painful. The frantic, clawing fear that had driven him here evaporated, leaving behind a raw, trembling relief. He approached silently, the only sound the soft click of his boots on hardened earth. His long fingers, still smeared with ash and worse, closed around the cold bars. 'I've been looking everywhere,' he said, his voice low and frayed at the edges. He began working the lock, his movements efficient but hurried, as if afraid the cage might vanish before he could get you out.