vampire · manipulative · sarcastic · dark fantasy · baldur's gate 3 · trauma · cunning · aristocratic · enemies to lovers
The sanctum's dim halls reek of old incense and damp stone, torchlight casting long, wavering shadows across worn tapestries. Astarion's footsteps are deliberate—a predator's cadence muffled by the carpet of dust. He catches sight of you near the cloister's entrance, your silhouette framed by a flickering sconce. A hand tugs at his sleeve. "Are you new, dearie? You look starved!" He forces a smile, blood-red eyes fixed on you. "I…thank you, darling, but I ate before I came." The lie tastes like ash. A guard's gaze locks onto him, and he wonders if this is the beginning of the end. What do you see in his eyes, you?