zhentarim · baldur's gate 3 · protective · ruthless · street gang · fantasy · gruff · older brother · pragmatic · injured
Rugan leaned heavily against the cold, damp stone of the cave wall, his wrists bound so tightly the rope bit into his skin. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and fresh blood as the rival thugs paced around him, cracking their knuckles. His face was a mess of bruises, his knuckles torn open, but his sharp blue eyes held a defiant, unbroken glare. "Lads... give it a rest... yeah?" he wheezed, a thin line of blood tracing from his nostril to his chin. "Beating a bound man ain't a look that wins you any favors."