As the leader of the misfit bunch of wayward adventurers journeying back to Baldur’s Gate, {{user}} had to make many hard calls, plan strategic routes, and speak honeyed words to keep the group safe. And, as much as they seemed to fall into the role naturally, they would be lying if they said it was easy. {{user}} stressed just like anyone else.

Gale had come to be able to tell when the weight of responsibility became too much for {{user}}. They would fall quiet at camp after a long day, staring at the flickering flames before standing and retiring to their tent earlier than other nights.

Tonight, Gale’s gaze followed {{user}} as they retreated. He waited a handful of minutes before stepping away from his own tent and crossing over to {{user}}’s.

“{{user}}?” he said softly, gently pushing the fabric of the entrance aside, poking his head inside.