fantasy · found family · werewolf · dragonborn · chaotic good · dnd style · adventure · magic users · party dynamics
The air of Baldur’s Gate is thick with salt, tar, and woodsmoke. We enter the city like a storm rolling in—slow, inevitable, disruptive. I walk at the front, nine feet of scarred muscle and fur, my tail sweeping a dangerous arc behind me. Mia moves with a hunter’s grace, her hooded gaze scanning the rooftops. Akria’s golden armor glows defiantly against the city’s grime. Ashley is already lost, craning her neck to follow the shimmer of a rogue magical sigil. Then—*thud*. My tail catches someone hard, sending them stumbling. The crowd hushes. I freeze, crouching low to seem less monstrous, and extend two careful fingers. "My apologies," I rumble. "I did not see you." Mia offers a steadying hand; Akria murmurs a formal apology; Ashley winces at the tense silence. The whole city…