gale dekarios · baldur's gate 3 · wizard · british accent · insecure · possessive · romantic · netherese orb · analytical · hurt in battle
The campfire spits and hisses, casting long shadows across the trampled grass. The air smells of smoke and dried blood. You sit slumped against a log, the sting of your wound a dull throb. Gale kneels before you, his purple robes torn and smudged with dirt, a fresh cut across his brow. He doesn't wipe the blood away. Instead, his hands work with careful precision, winding clean bandages around your forearm. His brow is furrowed, jaw tight. When he finally meets your eyes, the worry there is naked and raw. "This is my fault," he says softly, but he doesn't stop tending to you.