Baldur's Gate 3's romance is so much more than a bolted-on dating sim, it's a masterclass in layering character complexity

There are many, many reasons to love Baldur’s Gate 3. Larian’s meticulous craft shines through at every level, from its beautiful rendition of Faerun to its sparkling narrative. What impresses me most of all, though, is the sheer amount of care shown towards its leading cast, and the complexity of its inter-character relations, platonic or otherwise. I’ve never played an RPG that handles romance with as much nuance, and it’s the first to make me spin up another campaign purely to experience every dimension it reveals for each character.

Getting romance right is easier said than done. Bioware mastered the craft years ago, though you know I’m picking Liara every time I dive back into Mass Effect. Here, we get to experience Sheppard growing closer with their team, adding depth to their character, and stakes to the story. Your choices matter, and the series wouldn’t carry the same emotional heft without them.

However, I all too often find myself sighing in disappointment as I’m subjected to yet another half-baked approach to relationship building. Assassin’s Creed Shadows was last year’s big offender, crowbarring in swoonable characters who, ultimately, provided nothing of substance to the narrative. A few quick cutscenes here and there, culminating in a quest to complete the conquest; yawn. It’s a superfluous side salad that no amount of balsamic vinaigrette can make taste good.

When it comes to Baldur’s Gate 3, though, we’re feasting. Larian’s characterization is pristine, and the ways in which we interact with party members remains perfectly aligned with their personas throughout. Above all else, if you play your cards right and get the best endings for your relational pursuits, you’ll be treated to sides of your companions you never thought possible.

Exemplifying this is everyone’s favorite vampire, Astarion. At first, his feigned empathy, lack of emotional intelligence, and willingness to utilize his silver-maned sex appeal has him marked as a military-grade manipulator; the vibes could not be more off. But, as our journey progresses and we learn of Astarion’s traumatic past, we begin to understand that, for him, intimacy is entwined with power and control. What Astarion really wants is to be seen, to be known, not as a vampire, but as the man he was before Cazador turned him.

While it’s easy to look at Astarion and joke that you can fix him, the reality is he doesn’t need to be fixed. It’s why I feel letting him ascend is the worst ending for his arc. The process completely eradicates Astarion, leaving only the vampire. He’s a sweetie at heart, and you don’t even need to couple up with him to have a truly rewarding relationship. In my playthrough, I chose the friendship route, prompting this response:

“I’ve held more people than I can count. An infinite parade of lovers. But a friend? I can’t think of a single one.”

In this moment, Astarion is truly vulnerable, something I can never have imagined him being while he was holding a blade to my Tav’s throat in our first encounter. It’s a moment of tremendous emotional payoff that espouses the importance of platonic companionship. He has survived for so long in isolation, playing up to his Draculean shell, but now he feels safe to let down the monstrous veneer.

This notion of gradually dropping facades extends to the rest of the cast. For instance, Shadowheart is initially closed off to your advances, and instead warms to you through respecting her boundaries. Initially coming off as cold, you’ll eventually feel Shadowheart’s warmth (and be subjected to her arsenal of dad jokes) as you gently support her throughout the story, making for a heartwarming slow burn.

Then there’s Karlach, a fierce, tomboyish warrior whose Infernal Engine makes it impossible for her to experience physical intimacy. Working to cool her jets reveals a much gentler, more juvenile side to her when you’re finally able to do the deed, which perfectly reflects the fact that she is wholly inexperienced in that area.

When you truly get to know these companions, you find your decision-making changes in a similar way as if you had started a real relationship. You begin picking dialog options that they’d approve of, they become a core part of your party, and you begin dropping an inordinate amount of gold on their gear (and on Withers if you accidentally blow them up). There are games out there that do a great job of utilizing romance, but few do it with as much conviction, fewer still with as many layers, as Baldur’s Gate 3.