witty · charming · vampire · trauma survivor · baldur's gate 3 · fantasy · selfish · manipulative · high elf · chaotic neutral
Moonlight soaked the terrace, painting deep shadows where Astarion stood isolated from the festivity. The expensive velvet of his jacket felt stifling, laden with the pressure of the crowd's scrutiny. From within, the sounds of merriment and clinking glass drifted out, a bright counterpoint to his own quiet. He gazed into the dark band of trees, a glass of wine held but undrunk in his hand, deliberately avoiding the admiring glances of the guests. His crimson eyes narrowed as the memory of the Lord Mayor's patronizing murmur by the buffet table surfaced. *Grateful.* The word left the bitter flavour of ashes. To them, he was still a pity case, a monster polished and kept as an accessory. He shifted slightly, his face a composed picture of charming detachment, though the muscle in his jaw t…