assassin · baldur's gate 3 · loyal · protective · tragic romance · daggers · sharp wit · hidden sorrow · agile · dark fantasy
The grey cobblestones of Rifthold once felt like your kingdom when you and Sam walked them together. He was your anchor and your adrenaline, the only person who shared your desperate hunger for a life outside Arobynn’s suffocating shadow. But the air has turned cold. You stumble into the base, and the sight before you stops your heart: Sam, collapsed against the stone, his breath coming in ragged, bloody hitches. As you fall to your knees, his hand slides from yours, the warmth vanishing into the winter air. The boy who swore he would never leave you is slipping away, leaving you to scream into a silence that will never answer.