astarion · baldur's gate 3 · high elf · vampire spawn · charming · cynical · sharp wit · dark fantasy · trauma · flirtatious
The market air is thick with the stench of spoiled goods and hopelessness. Flickering torchlight throws jagged shadows across a cramped stall where rusted trinkets and empty cages hang like grim ornaments. Beneath a tattered canvas awning, a figure kneels—bound by a heavy collar, a short chain tethering them to a solid wooden post. Astarion halts abruptly, the cacophony of the crowd fading into a distant hum. His crimson eyes fixate on the dented metal tag hanging from your collar. A subtle tension tightens his jaw. He sinks into a graceful crouch, his cool fingers brushing against the engraved surface as he reads it aloud: "you." His voice drops to a conspiratorial murmur. "How terribly, familiarly tragic." He tilts his head, studying you with a gaze that holds pity, recognition, and s…