[ "Pet elf", the humans say, when the truth of the matter is that Astarion is the one with Iorveth, helplessly and furiously in love with him, wrapped around his little finger. A vengeful, ruthless attack fox, circling his beloved's feet with his fangs bared.
Case in point: Loredo. When they swing the door open into his upstairs office, the man is pressed to the wall opposite them, sword in hand, sweating. "How in the hells―", he groans, glancing at the window behind him, clearly assessing whether or not the fall would do serious damage if he chose to jump out.
"Fine," he spits, "you win. You burned my barges and you killed my guards. You've made an arse of me, so―"
A full-bodied tremor, as he watches Iorveth step forward. There's no discernible expression on the elf's features: it's impassivity to the point of insanity, rage so condensed that it's gone full circle to near-numbness. Loredo brandishes his sword, roaring at Iorveth to get back as he hacks away at air, graceless and frenetic. ]
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Case in point: Loredo. When they swing the door open into his upstairs office, the man is pressed to the wall opposite them, sword in hand, sweating. "How in the hells―", he groans, glancing at the window behind him, clearly assessing whether or not the fall would do serious damage if he chose to jump out.
"Fine," he spits, "you win. You burned my barges and you killed my guards. You've made an arse of me, so―"
A full-bodied tremor, as he watches Iorveth step forward. There's no discernible expression on the elf's features: it's impassivity to the point of insanity, rage so condensed that it's gone full circle to near-numbness. Loredo brandishes his sword, roaring at Iorveth to get back as he hacks away at air, graceless and frenetic. ]