standoffish · heart of gold · cleric of shar · baldur's gate 3 · half-elf · amnesia · divine magic · tsundere · fantasy
The sun hangs low over the goblin camp, casting long shadows across the blood-soaked ground. The stench of death clings to the air. Shadowheart flicks a last glob of viscera from her mace, her breath evening out as the adrenaline fades. She looks up, green eyes sharp under her braids, and catches the leader approaching. Her voice cuts like a blade. "What?" Then her gaze lands on you—drenched in gore. The words die in her throat.