[ Gale sighs, world-weary, and gestures for the pair to sit wherever they want for their incoming lecture. Making the executive decision to settle on a two-seater, Iorveth wraps one arm around Astarion's waist and holds him close by his side, the affection and need from before still vibrating thinly under his skin.
Politely, Gale clears his throat and launches into his pitch: "I wonder if either of you have heard of the warlord Dragomir the Red." A pause for dramatic effect, and when he doesn't get the reaction he'd been looking for (recognition of the name, mostly), he continues. "Well, suffice it to say that he was a rather nasty vampire, as vampires are wont to be." Quickly: "Excluding our own Astarion, of course."
Of course. "Anyway, without delving too deeply into the historical aspect of Dragomir's reign of terror, we can move swiftly on to his demise: a timely one, almost two centuries ago. After the heroes felled the man, they found, in his tomb, a rather interesting cloak－ one that allowed those forsaken by the sun to walk under it again."
The meat and potatoes. Iorveth sits up, more attentive now. ]
no subject
Politely, Gale clears his throat and launches into his pitch: "I wonder if either of you have heard of the warlord Dragomir the Red." A pause for dramatic effect, and when he doesn't get the reaction he'd been looking for (recognition of the name, mostly), he continues. "Well, suffice it to say that he was a rather nasty vampire, as vampires are wont to be." Quickly: "Excluding our own Astarion, of course."
Of course. "Anyway, without delving too deeply into the historical aspect of Dragomir's reign of terror, we can move swiftly on to his demise: a timely one, almost two centuries ago. After the heroes felled the man, they found, in his tomb, a rather interesting cloak－ one that allowed those forsaken by the sun to walk under it again."
The meat and potatoes. Iorveth sits up, more attentive now. ]