The Companions of Baldur's Gate 3: A Dungeon Master's Guide to Their D&D Alter Egos

In the years since its release, Baldur's Gate 3 has remained a cultural touchstone, a shimmering gateway for countless adventurers into the vast, intricate world of Dungeons & Dragons. For many, the journey didn't end with saving or damning the Sword Coast; it sparked a deeper curiosity. What if the companions themselves, those complex souls forged in Larian's masterpiece, gathered around a table, dice in hand, to tell their own stories? What classes would these seasoned adventurers choose when the roles are reversed, and they become the players? This is not merely a question of mechanics, but a playful exploration of character, a thought experiment for Dungeon Masters and fans alike, imagining how these beloved personalities would translate from Faerûn's heroes to a tabletop party in 2026.

Let's begin with the vampire spawn whose wit is as sharp as his fangs. Astarion wouldn't just choose a class; he would perform it. Drawn to the limelight like a moth to a gothic chandelier, he would undoubtedly gravitate towards the Bard. For Astarion, Dungeons & Dragons would be less about slaying monsters and more about the theater of it all—the intricate social dances, the clever manipulations, the art of the deal sealed with a smile and a cutting remark. Playing a rogue himself, he understands the value of a well-placed dagger, but the true thrill lies in the narrative. A bard allows him to be the star of his own tragicomedy, a symphony conductor of chaos and charm. His roleplay would be as precise and practiced as a centuries-old waltz, and his attempts to seduce every tavern keeper, noble, and potentially hostile dragon would be legendary, if not always successful. In his hands, a lute is less an instrument and more a key to every locked heart and door in the realm.

For Gale of Waterdeep, the table offers a unique form of therapy. A wizard haunted by a hunger for magical artifacts might find profound solace in the Artificer class. Here, magic items are not consumed in desperation but created, studied, and perfected with loving intellect. It's a healthier outlet for his arcane obsessions, a chance to rebuild his relationship with magic from the ground up, bolt by enchanted bolt. The artificer's blend of spellcasting and inventive craftsmanship would sing to Gale's soul; he'd approach each infusion like a poet crafting a sonnet, each mechanical servant like a beloved thesis given form. His character would be a monument to applied intelligence, a walking library whose very gear hums with carefully calculated potential. One can imagine him debating the finer points of an Enhanced Arcane Focus infusion with the fervor of a professor defending a dissertation.

Then there's Karlach, a heart of gold forged in the fires of Avernus. While her soul is pure barbarian—a tempest of righteous fury—at the table, she might seek a slight change of pace. She'd likely choose the Fighter, a martial class that offers discipline and tactical variety without straying too far from the visceral joy of combat. For Karlach, D&D is about the clash of steel, the triumphant roar after a hard-won victory, the simple, honest language of a well-executed action surge. She'd relish the fighter's reliability and the sheer number of attacks she could unleash, her excitement at a critical hit as genuine and explosive as her engine-heart. Her roleplay would be straightforward and heartfelt, her loyalty to her party members as solid as a fortress wall. She wouldn't overcomplicate things; sometimes a problem just needs to be hit very, very hard, and the fighter is the quintessential instrument for that solution.

Speaking of hitting things, Lae'zel would have even less patience for the diplomatic nuances of roleplay. Her approach to a character sheet would be as direct as a githyanki silver sword. The Barbarian class calls to her, not as a departure, but as a pure, unadulterated embrace of her nature. The Rage mechanic isn't a game rule; it's a comfortable old friend. She would understand it on a visceral level, channeling that constant, simmering intensity into controlled bursts of devastating power. Lae'zel at the table would be a player perpetually on the edge of her seat during combat, calculating angles of attack with the focus of a chess master, and utterly bewildered during social encounters. One can picture her tapping her dice impatiently, her question to the Dungeon Master a blunt, "Enough talk. When do we fight?" For her, the narrative exists only as a bridge between combats, each encounter a chance to prove her worth, her character's rage burning as steady and fierce as a forge's heart.

In fascinating contrast stands Shadowheart. A life spent in service, healing and supporting, often under a shadow of secrecy, might lead her to seek liberation at the gaming table. The Sorcerer class, with its innate, raw, and often destructive magical power, could be a thrilling escape. It's a chance to stop mending wounds and start causing them, to explore the darker, more personal magics her Sharran upbringing hinted at. Subclasses like Shadow Sorcery or those dealing with necromantic energies would draw her like a secret whispered in the dark. The mechanics would feel familiar yet liberating—the magic comes from within, unbidden and powerful, with no need for the rigorous preparation of a cleric. It's a fantasy of unshackled potential, though one that might cut a little too close to the bone, her character's struggle with shadowy power mirroring her own past in ways both cathartic and unnerving.

If Shadowheart seeks to explore her shadows, Wyll would seek the light. The Blade of Frontiers, bound by a fiendish pact, might use the game to imagine a different path. The Cleric class represents a spiritual polar opposite to his warlock existence—a connection to divine grace rather than infernal contract. Wyll's inherent nobility and desire to protect would make him a natural fit for the roleplay of a holy warrior or a compassionate healer. He would embody the support role not out of obligation, but from a genuine desire to see his party thrive. Guiding his friends with principled counsel and bolstering them with blessings, he'd find a pure, uncomplicated heroism in the cleric's domain that his real life often denies him. His character would be a beacon, a chance to fight for justice with a power that doesn't leave a bitter aftertaste of hellfire.

Companion	Proposed D&D Class (2026)	Primary Motivation at the Table
Astarion	Bard	Theatrical Roleplay & Social Manipulation
Gale	Artificer	Intellectual Crafting & Therapeutic Tinkering
Karlach	Fighter	Visceral Combat & Loyal Teamwork