[ That polite handspan-and-a-half feels an awful lot like a polite two inches, and Astarion finds himself—unfairly, but all the same—irritated at the perceived coddling. His mood only worsens, expression growing more sour, and everything the halfling says just deepens his sullenness.
Ruby eyes. Any tiefling could have ruby eyes, he reminds himself. It doesn't mean anything.
And yet, he says, darkly, ] We'll wait at the bar for him to return.
[ Maybe not the best idea, but the last thing he wants is to be surprised by some spawn out on the street. ]
no subject
Ruby eyes. Any tiefling could have ruby eyes, he reminds himself. It doesn't mean anything.
And yet, he says, darkly, ] We'll wait at the bar for him to return.
[ Maybe not the best idea, but the last thing he wants is to be surprised by some spawn out on the street. ]
Come.
[ A rough tug to Iorveth's arm. ]