[ Gods, Astarion is so funny. Iorveth lists in his armchair, but huffs another quiet half-laugh at the outburst. That's one way to speed things, up he thinks.
Meanwhile, the tiefling raises his impeccable brow and finally glances back and forth between Astarion and Iorveth, seeming to note how the two have positioned themselves. There's the faintest suggestion of a frown on his lips, but Iorveth's vision is doubling; it's starting to dawn on him that this might not, in fact, be bloodlessness.
"Obviously," the spawn finally admits, and opens his arms as if to suggest that he comes in peace. "And there's not a vampire in this city that should go unaccounted for. My Master guards his territory very jealously."
Not a threat; it rings as a statement of fear and dread. Iorveth tries to say something, but his tongue feels paralyzed, his mouth too dry to form words. He narrows his eye at the stranger, who notes it, again, with that same half-suggestion of displeasure, as if he's not happy that Astarion seems fine in comparison.
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Meanwhile, the tiefling raises his impeccable brow and finally glances back and forth between Astarion and Iorveth, seeming to note how the two have positioned themselves. There's the faintest suggestion of a frown on his lips, but Iorveth's vision is doubling; it's starting to dawn on him that this might not, in fact, be bloodlessness.
"Obviously," the spawn finally admits, and opens his arms as if to suggest that he comes in peace. "And there's not a vampire in this city that should go unaccounted for. My Master guards his territory very jealously."
Not a threat; it rings as a statement of fear and dread. Iorveth tries to say something, but his tongue feels paralyzed, his mouth too dry to form words. He narrows his eye at the stranger, who notes it, again, with that same half-suggestion of displeasure, as if he's not happy that Astarion seems fine in comparison.
"Why have you come? Who do you serve?" ]