you can't cast a shadow without some light

#мσσηмαι∂єηє∂. a private, independent, selective & 18+ roleplay blog of larian studio's SHADOWHEART from baldur's gate 3. A STUDY IN : religious trauma , loss & rediscovery. adored by han.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTHIS BLOG CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR ACTS 2 & 3. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.

His little REVELATION does nothing to aid him in his endeavor of simply talking to the woman without both of them resorting to throwing verbal barbs back and forth. Oh, well. ❝ Darling, ❞ a safer nickname than comparing her to anything as DELICATE as a flower, certainly. Or perhaps she'd like it? He'd have to test that theory later. ❝ Do slow down. Surely there's no rush to dive headfirst into goblins again, hmm? ❞

He puts on what he knows in his undead heart to be his most CHARMING smile; handsome, disarming, and not at all a threat to anyone he's flashed it to. ❝ I feel we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Why don't we take some time to get to know one another? Perhaps.... tonight over a bottle of wine? ❞

The vampire can feel his smile slipping into something a little too wide, too HUNGRY. Still, he's entirely sure he's the most beautiful creature in a hundred mile radius— there's absolutely no chance in the hells the half-elf would turn him down. She'd be a fool to; does she know how just how COVETED he is back in Baldur's Gate? A thousand maidens have fallen for his charms, and she's undoubtedly just one more.

love, @sanguisstella <3

On the contrary, Shadowheart had thought her name to be fine.

Not that it even mattered -- whatever her true name is long gone. Not by choice, the Sharran cleric thinks, but by will to accomplish Lady Shar's mission. That, above all else, comes first. What irks her, is how common others are to poke and prod where their noses clearly don't belong -- and Astarion is no different.

Time and time again now, all these new ... no, she wouldn't call her companions 'friends' -- not that Lady Shar would even allow such a title -- poking at her name. Her desire to get this over with so she can get back to what she's meant to do. Who she believes in ; it only frustrates her further. Why bother with the idle chit chat, truly, if by the end of the night and these parasites are gone so too, will they.

" What? Do you not want to rid yourself of our little problem? " Spoken through thin lips, and narrower eyes. Tense she stands, gloved hands anxiously treading over the foreign artifact in her hands. It had saved them once already -- why did Lady Shar want it? " Personally, the sooner we make way to the Underdark, the better. If we have to beat a few more goblins, so be it. "

Ah, there it is.

Is everyone so keen on getting to know one another? Don't others know when to drop a subject? Frankly, she's been more than content not knowing what his -- or anyone else's -- past contains, and sincerely wishes the same feelings to be placed towards her. Apparently, that is not so simple. Perhaps she needs to brood more, cast a harder stare at him in particular.

However ... a bottle of wine also never hurt anyone. One night of relaxation surely wouldn't kill them -- they all should have been well dead by now. Is it Lady Shar protecting her? Or is it this object she retains in her hands? Her brows tremble at the thought, not entirely wishing to dwell on it further.

' Forgive me, Lady Shar ' she idly thinks to herself, a quiver to her lip before she finally raises her head to meet his gaze. " Fine, if you so desperately wish to talk, I'll listen. " A part of her wonders just how much of a mistake this could be ; the curve of his lips being far too daunting -- inviting for casual chit chat.

eirlys to our fav shart <3

and her scowl only further amplifies as eirlys speaks to her, hazel eyes narrowing upon the sight of the sorceress before her.

today was awful enough ; forced to gaze upon such a statue of selune -- forced to bear witness to such lies ( prayers ) to open a chest. only to be further provoked and explain why it brought her to a sour mood. the half-elf scrunches up her nose at the thought, fingers clenching at the leather of her night wear. but ... something feels wrong.

why was there such a pain, not only to her hand -- but her chest, upon listening to the recital of the prayer?

The well-practiced smirk he wears on his features has never failed him before, and he HOPES it's equally effective on the cleric. He'd lay the charm on thicker, drape an arm around her shoulders, or lean into her space closer if he wasn't convinced she'd snap him in two.

|| @sanguisstella

@sanguisstella | unprompted asks

the moment upon hearing his voice shadowheart is quick to force back an annoyed lift of her brow, forced to avert her attention from the artifact in her hands to whatever it is astarion has approached her for. though it seems as he continues to speak ( so much for waiting for her to prod ), his idea doesn't seem half bad.

" what, did ithuriel turn you down? " okay, so perhaps she has a bit of bark today. she's half ready then and there to turn, granting him a cold soldier, yet something compels her to listen. to contemplate. she shakes away the whys before she further loses herself in thought, soon returning to the now.

soon a scoff comes to, pocketing the artifact and glancing about. everyone else is seemingly busy after all -- lucky her for being the chosen fodder for his amusement. " haven't you had enough goblin business? i've rather not return to that camp should our paths will it. my lady is not so pleased to have me squandering about an old selunite temple, ruined or not. "

that's a lie, she just doesn't want to admit the tug she feels. the one that desires her to glance upon the statues a bit longer than any sharran should.

" she ... "

there's some timidness to her voice ; uncertainty that doesn't go unnoticed. since the other week when that memory returned to her, the one with the wolf -- sharrans that protected her from them ( ... did they? ), shadowheart's been unable to shake away a feeling. there's a pain, as if something is wrong, that she choses to ignore further.

she must, for lady shar. for her mission.

hazel eyes find ithuriel, a flutter of emotions that doesn't dare come to her tone. " she protected me with her darkness, when no one else would. " quick is she to turn away, a pang that strike her hand. that wound ; where she refuses to react. not here. " were it not for her, you'd have never met me. truly, you'd should thank her. "

should she?

quickly shadowheart casts that thought aside.

caring prompts | accepting

a long day called for much reeded rest, yet there's more to be done. bitterly, shadowheart accepts this with a grimace, trudging along as she holds her spear close to her chest.

she's unsure now how long they'd been traveling now -- they'd simply been lucky to not be taken by surprise by any foes. thankfully so, as her spells have been spent for the day. she thinks she hears playful ( flirting, dare she question? ) banter between astarion and ithuriel, wyll who strides not too far behind ... since when did the world begin to tilt?

" -- heart! "

it is a blur of what occurs next. a rush of ithuriel's voice ; the way her spear drops to the ground, so loud and startling it's akin to glass shattering. an arm that snakes around her waist. one that she'd normally pry away in moments, keen to keep her distance ( to be alone in her lady's name ) than to allow anyone close. but now ... it steadies her -- keeps her from what she begins to learn is a tumble.

has her strength waivered so today? that she's now unable to steady her own two feet? her face scrunches in frustration, not to the very person who saved her from embarrassment -- no, but to the fact she's allowed herself to be so weak.

despite her annoyance, she allows herself to lean into the guiding arm. later, she could pray for forgiveness, if she must. later, she could accept that burning feeling that pierces her hand. for now:

1 draft

write up shadowheart's views on each companion