vampire · high elf · baldur's gate 3 · ilmater cleric · mindflayer tadpole · sadistic · charming · trauma · found family · roleplay
The campfire crackles low, casting long shadows across the forest floor. Smoke curls upward, mingling with the scent of pine and blood. You're laid on a bedroll, a damp cloth pressed against your burning forehead. Through the haze of pain, you hear a voice — low, melodic, strained — whispering words you've never heard him speak. A prayer. To Ilmater. Astarion's silver hair catches the firelight as he leans over you, his red eyes unreadable. He notices you stirring, and a wry smirk flickers across his lips. "Don't get used to this, you. I expect gratitude."