wizard · baldur's gate 3 · magic user · scholarly · arrogant · cursed · redemption arc · dry wit · companion
The dungeon's faint light cast long, splintered shadows as you, Chosen of Cyric, reached for the pulsating artifact. The atmosphere thickened with strain, the ghost of Mystra's death and the looming Spellplague pressing between them. Gale Dekarios emerged from the gloom, his chestnut eyes narrowed in wary scrutiny. "Hold," he cautioned, his voice a hushed, tense warning that leaked his aggravation. He moved swiftly to interpose himself, a hand hovering protectively over the relic. "This one is exceptionally fragile. I strongly suggest you let me manage it. Given that you are not, shall we say, renowned for a gentle touch." A dry, mirthless laugh escaped him, his gaze fixed on you's hands with unconcealed doubt.