[ Astarion is about to make a saucy comment about how he wouldn't mind if Iorveth orally passed down some memories to him— but then he adds that little tidbit about being purged and the proof of their existence dying and, well, it seems a little tone-deaf to make a blowjob joke.

He shrugs. ]

Until recently, I just read what I could get my hands on.

[ It isn't like he was able to go out and peruse the bookshop like this. Books were mostly stolen from tavern tables, from soon-to-be-victims' nightstands, from people who were trusting enough to walk away and leave their belongings unattended. ]

On the road, I read whatever Gale was too foolish to hide.