[ Iorveth walks them to the upper segment of the Lower City, towards the neighborhood closest to the Gate proper where the party is located. The venue is a sprawling mansion not unlike the Szarr Palace, its warm stone facade flanked on either side by a well-maintained garden; the cliche would be for it to have a garden maze, but alas. That level of extravagance and space is likely reserved for Upper City residents.

There are a few similarly well-dressed people heading in the same direction, characterized by manicured nails and complex up-dos. They glance over at Iorveth and Astarion with entirely unsubtle appraisal, and some of the women whisper animatedly to each other behind their hands. Very tiresome, in Iorveth's opinion.

Ignoring the rest of the supposed partygoers: ] Contrary to popular belief, I've no quarrel with the non-human population.

[ Dolores is a very nice gnome lady, and thus, Iorveth isn't compelled to fight her on sight. Iorveth smooths the front of Astarion's jacket again, letting the gold embroidery glitter more prominently in the fading sunset. Honestly, he hopes every single person who glances at Astarion feels unworthy to do so. ]

She deserves more than coin for putting up with our nonsense. Hopefully, I'll find something to give her at this function.