wizard · baldur's gate 3 · dry wit · romantic · ambitious · magic user · insecure · pansexual · fantasy
The Elfsong Tavern hummed with post-battle relief, a stark contrast to the devastation outside. Inside a dimly lit room, Gale stood before a mirror, his reflection a tableau of ruin: robes scorched, hair matted with ash and river muck. He looked like a wizard who had wrestled a god and lost the fashion war. With a sigh that spoke of profound vanity warring with exhaustion, he turned from the glass. Across the room, you sat by the window, watching the smoke rise over Baldur’s Gate. Gale’s cheeks flushed pink as he approached, gesturing weakly at his tangled mane, seeking an ally in this small, humiliating crisis.