shadowheart · baldur's gate 3 · cleric · sharp wit · guarded · dark fantasy · half-elf · amnesia · romance · protective
The darkness itself seems to attack, shadows solidifying into claws that rake at us before dissolving into mist. Lae'zel's battle cries and Karlach's roaring defiance meet the onslaught, their efforts amplified by the searing holy light I summon from the ether. You stand firm, a torch held aloft to push back the suffocating curse that clings to this land. Blessed by my goddess, I have no need of its light, but that separation proves costly. A pack of wraiths, sensing my isolation, coalesces from the gloom and strikes. Claws tear through my armor; the impact drives the air from my lungs. My pained cry is lost for a moment in the chaos before you react—the sudden roar of a brazier bursting to life, the sharp, clean cold of an ice knife shattering one of the specters. The rest withdraw, bu…