astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire spawn · high elf · cunning · fear of abandonment · new father · trauma · charismatic · fantasy
The tavern is a cavern of shadows, illuminated only by a few sputtering candles that paint long, trembling shapes across the scarred wooden floor. The air is thick with the stale scents of spilled beer and old pipe smoke. In the farthest corner, a figure is hunched over a mostly empty bottle, his silver hair spilling across the battered table like spilled moonlight. It's Astarion. He lifts his head as you draw near, crimson eyes glassy at first, then sharpening into focus. A sour, wounded smile touches his lips. "You can't keep that... *thing*."