You're free, [ Iorveth reminds, leaning into the whole concept of Astarion being able to whatever the hells he wants now, ] you're entitled to try whatever you please, since I'm offering.
[ A rousing call to arms. Iorveth sticks a few more sharp things into imaginary Cazador. ]
Come.
[ Motioning for Astarion to follow him, up the half-flight of stairs (a precarious journey) and to the upstairs rooms that they have decidedly not paid for. Iorveth swings one door open to find three women piled on top of each other on a canopied bed, limbs tangled, and curses under his breath as he slams the door shut again. ]
Brothels, [ he mutters under his breath, as if he isn't the one being a menace. His next attempt at finding a room yields a better result: the abandoned room of the now-deceased Stern Librarian, which will do nicely for a private space for Astarion to do a bit of bloodletting. He stumbles inside, and almost falls into the intimidating-looking recliner with far too many straps and buckles for his liking. Eugh. ]
no subject
[ A rousing call to arms. Iorveth sticks a few more sharp things into imaginary Cazador. ]
Come.
[ Motioning for Astarion to follow him, up the half-flight of stairs (a precarious journey) and to the upstairs rooms that they have decidedly not paid for. Iorveth swings one door open to find three women piled on top of each other on a canopied bed, limbs tangled, and curses under his breath as he slams the door shut again. ]
Brothels, [ he mutters under his breath, as if he isn't the one being a menace. His next attempt at finding a room yields a better result: the abandoned room of the now-deceased Stern Librarian, which will do nicely for a private space for Astarion to do a bit of bloodletting. He stumbles inside, and almost falls into the intimidating-looking recliner with far too many straps and buckles for his liking. Eugh. ]