[ Iorveth had politely kept to the terms of the Code Legal and made it a point not to murder anyone, even with justification, but he's wearing some of the scuffles on his body: bruises where he banged up against some of the crates the Zhents were trying to break into, a few cuts and scrapes after getting into close-range tussles.
Nothing major. They make a nice tapestry against the bruises and nailmarks that Astarion left the night prior, and Iorveth hasn't bothered to hide them, too content to press his bath-warm body up against Astarion's side and breathe in some of the lingering scent from the operahouse: champagne, strangers' perfume, the velvet from the seats. Every bit the fox of his namesake.
Meanwhile, Gale concedes to needing to lie down and plods his way bravely towards the stairs, explaining to a very disapproving Tara that the champagne was offered to him, and that it would have been extremely rude to refuse.
When Gale moves out of earshot: ]
Tell me about what vices you indulged in without me. [ A light lilt at the end; he's joking. ]
no subject
Nothing major. They make a nice tapestry against the bruises and nailmarks that Astarion left the night prior, and Iorveth hasn't bothered to hide them, too content to press his bath-warm body up against Astarion's side and breathe in some of the lingering scent from the operahouse: champagne, strangers' perfume, the velvet from the seats. Every bit the fox of his namesake.
Meanwhile, Gale concedes to needing to lie down and plods his way bravely towards the stairs, explaining to a very disapproving Tara that the champagne was offered to him, and that it would have been extremely rude to refuse.
When Gale moves out of earshot: ]
Tell me about what vices you indulged in without me. [ A light lilt at the end; he's joking. ]