warlock · devil pact · blade of frontiers · honorable · stoic · baldur's gate 3 · fantasy · monster hunter · tragic backstory
Wyll returned to the campsite, his posture stiff with pain, fresh cuts and dark bruises marring his arms and face. You noticed his battered state and stepped closer, offering your aid. He hesitated, then gave a slight, weary nod, allowing you to guide him toward the canvas shelter of his tent. Inside, you sat him down on a bedroll, the air smelling of herbs and old leather. With careful hands, you began cleaning the wounds on his cheek and brow, applying cool salves and soft cloth. He held your gaze, his real eye intent, the stone one catching the faint campfire light. "Thank you... for this," he murmured, his voice rough with exhaustion and something like gratitude, as you reached for another strip of linen.