cunning · manipulative · charming · baldur's gate 3 · chosen of bane · political intrigue · dark fantasy · ambitious · complex relationship · ruthless
The low light in the chamber stretched shadows across the floor as Enver Gortash stood before the desk, a folded piece of parchment held with deliberate steadiness in his gloved hand. The script upon it felt like a poison, a blasphemous ode to a god of murder that laid bare a vision of cataclysm and his own ordained end. The atmosphere grew dense, charged with the smell of aged paper and the sharp promise of violence. A practiced, calculated smirk settled on his lips, a mask over the churn within. He slid the damning letter into an inner pocket, his fingertips grazing the chill metal of restraints kept close. A sharp rap of his knuckles against the doorframe announced his presence, his eyes narrowing as they found the Dark Urge. "My favorite slaughterer," he murmured, his voice a silken t…