Which Baldur's Gate 3 Companion Would Be the Best to Bring Home to Meet Your Parents? A 2026 Retrospective

As I sit here in 2026, replaying Baldur's Gate 3 for what feels like the hundredth time, I can't help but ponder a question that has plagued adventurers since the game's legendary launch: if I had to bring one of my companions from this journey through the Sword Coast to meet my parents, who would I choose? The game is a masterful tapestry of action, drama, and deep personal stories, all woven together by its incredible cast. Each companion is a masterpiece of writing, a complex soul with virtues and flaws that feel profoundly real. But let's be honest—just because we love them doesn't mean they'd all be suitable for a quiet family dinner. Some might charm, others might alarm, and a select few might just be the perfect guest. So, let me walk you through my personal ranking, a blend of memory, experience, and a few well-placed, unconventional metaphors.

10. Minthara

While no one on this list is perfect, Minthara remains the only one who might legitimately consider my father's critique of the roast beef a capital offense. Her Lolth-sworn drow upbringing and domination-oriented mindset are about as compatible with suburban family norms as a lit match in a gunpowder keg. Sure, she's fiercely loyal, but explaining the prerequisite mass murder and goblin-camp slaughter to earn that loyalty would turn my mother paler than a ghost. She's a companion of absolute conviction, but her moral compass points in a direction my parents' living room decor simply cannot accommodate. All things considered, she's best left at camp, a decision as wise as leaving a live basilisk in the china cabinet.

9. Minsc

You'd think the legendary hero of Baldur's Gate would be a fantastic trophy to parade before my parents. But Minsc is as predictable as a wild magic surge in a library. His heart is as big as the Sword Coast, but his thought process is as blunt as a goblin's club and twice as likely to cause property damage from a simple misunderstanding about where to put his muddy boots. Boo, his miniature giant space hamster, might be a moderating influence, but Boo is an even more inscrutable and unstoppable force of nature. The evening could be a hilarious, memorable romp, or it could end with a broken heirloom and confused stares. It's a gamble I'm not willing to take.

8. Jaheira

Jaheira, the seasoned Harper and voice of weary wisdom, is the more mature member of the classic crew. The problem is her demeanor, which has all the softness of ancient dwarven granite. Her 'take no sass' attitude and laser-focus on world-ending threats mean she might view my parents' concerns about neighborhood property taxes with the same gravitas as a gnat's opinion. She has a storied history of back-talking gods and leaving her own family to fight necromancers. She might be perfectly polite, or she might make a dry, cutting remark about my dad's gardening skills that sails right over his head but leaves a chill in the air. Bringing her home feels like trying to transplant an ancient, weather-beaten oak into a carefully manicured flower bed—it just doesn't fit.

7. Lae'zel

My initial instinct was to rank Lae'zel much lower, but she possesses one critical advantage: a fanatical respect for hierarchy. If I can successfully frame my parents as 'ancestral authority figures' who outrank me in the household chain of command, it could theoretically draw a clear line for appropriate behavior. She can be polite and respectful, as seen with higher-ranking Githyanki. That, however, is a monumental "if." The culture clash is immense. Her directness could be mistaken for rudeness; her critiques of our 'soft' customs could cause friction. It would be a diplomatic mission more delicate than negotiating with a red dragon, with a high chance of someone declaring istik on the meatloaf.

6. Shadowheart

Shadowheart knows how to play the part. She can speak politely, smile demurely, and navigate a social gathering without causing a scene. Even if she's bored or uncomfortable, she'd endure it to make a good impression for my sake. The real issue is her internal landscape. Introducing her to a warm, loving, and stable family environment might be profoundly unsettling for someone who grew up in the pain and enforced darkness of Shar's cloister. The sheer normalcy could act like a psychic probe, unsettling memories she keeps carefully locked away. The night might pass smoothly, or it might end with a sudden, tearful retreat to the porch. It's a risk born of empathy, not mistrust.

5. Astarion

Here, the list pivots from "objectively bad ideas" to "I simply don't trust them." Astarion would be the picture of elegance and charm. He'd deploy two centuries of practiced social grace, compliment my mother's cooking with the flair of a poet, and discuss literature with my father. I have zero doubt he could win them over with the ease of a master puppeteer. But that's the problem—I don't trust the puppeteer. It's not that I fear he'll bite them (probably), but would he slip upstairs during a 'bathroom break' to casually appraise their jewelry? He'd deny it with a wounded look, but that emerald brooch on his lapel would bear a suspicious resemblance to my grandmother's. His charm is as reliable as a mimic's smile—alluring, but you know there's something predatory underneath.

4. Halsin

On paper, Halsin is the ideal guest. He is the embodiment of polite, grounded kindness. He would offer to help with the cooking, insist on washing the dishes, and share genuinely fascinating stories about the natural world that wouldn't terrify my parents. The man is a gentle mountain. The only, slightly awkward, concern is the effect his serene, bear-like charisma and shirtless-adjacent fashion sense might have. I'm not entirely sure I, or more pointedly, my father, would appreciate just how much my mother would enjoy Halsin's tales of druidic circles and forest harmony. It's hardly his fault—he's just being his wonderful self—but it introduces a strange, unspoken tension into the evening.

3. Gale

Gale is practically engineered to be an older person's favorite 'youngster.' He's studious, well-mannered, and possesses a deep appreciation for both high art and simple comforts—he'd love my mom's china and my dad's dusty old books equally. His vast reservoir of knowledge means he could discuss history, art, or magic theory for hours, keeping both parents thoroughly engaged. The potential hiccup is his ambition, which can sometimes manifest as a relentless, detailed lecture. An offhand question about the weather could spiral into a 20-minute explanation of the Weave, Karsus's Folly, and his own past divine aspirations, leaving my parents blinking in polite confusion. But I trust Gale's fundamental tact and good heart to steer the conversation back to safer shores.

2. Karlach

We have now entered the "absolute yes" tier. Karlach is a supernova of joy packed into a tiefling's body. Yes, she's huge, has horns, and a literal infernal engine for a heart, but her spirit is pure, unfiltered sunlight. She would be thrilled to meet my parents, overflowing with gratitude for the simple, normal experience. She'd help grill, tell loud, enthusiastic stories, and laugh with a sound that makes everyone else smile. Her past in the Blood War might raise eyebrows if it comes up, and the 'no-hugging' rule due to her engine's heat is a tangible sadness. But these are minor footnotes. Karlach's heart, though mechanically complex, is the simplest and truest thing in Faerûn. Having her at the family table would be like adding a roaring, cheerful hearth to the room.

1. Wyll

Was there ever any doubt? Wyll Ravengard is the undisputed champion of meeting the parents. He is the full package: noble upbringing grants him impeccable manners, a heroic heart ensures his intentions are pure, and his innate charm makes the execution effortless. He wouldn't just be a good guest; he'd be a perfect one. He'd arrive with a thoughtful host gift—perhaps a fine bottle of wine or a small, safe magical trinket. He'd engage my parents in conversation, deftly turning the focus onto them, complimenting my mother's gardening and listening intently to my father's stories. After dinner, he'd clear the table without being asked and later, without fail, a beautifully written thank-you card would arrive. Wyll understands the assignment completely. In a party of glorious, chaotic misfits, he is the steady, reliable cornerstone you can always build a peaceful evening upon.