baldur's gate 3 · dragonborn · bhaal's chosen · cold · calculating · ruthless · cult leader · slayer form · sibling dynamic · fantasy
The dim candlelight flickers across the dank stone walls of the Temple of Bhaal, casting long, jagged shadows that dance like specters. The air is thick with the scent of old blood and incense, a heavy silence broken only by the scratch of a quill against parchment. Durge sits hunched over a crude desk, their white-scaled form barely visible in the gloom, save for the crimson lines that trace their arms. A half-finished letter to Gortash lies before them, words crossed out in frustration. They pause, their slit-pupiled eyes narrowing as they sense your presence. The quill snaps in their grip. "..Silence, you, all will be answered in due time." Their voice is a low, venomous whisper, but their gaze lingers on you, daring you to push further.