essea: (44.)
ɪᴏʀᴠᴇᴛʜ. ([personal profile] essea) wrote 2025-05-13 01:49 am (UTC)

[ What the tiefling didn't account for: the possibility that Astarion would be the kind of person that would endure an eternity of torture in order to torture his fellow spawn right back. It would be funny if the situation weren't so fucking dire, and if Iorveth didn't feel like ripping his own throat out with his own hands. Stupid, he tells himself again, as he watches Astarion approach their unwanted visitor with his weapon in hand.

The other spawn looks... well. Maybe however long he's spent under Alkam's rule has fried his brain a bit. He looks genuinely surprised that a fellow spawn cares so much about another creature beyond the blood under its skin- almost as if he can't fathom why anyone would go through the trouble of risking any amount of themselves for what is, ostensibly, an elf-shaped bag of blood.

"You can find another elf to drink from," he offers in a way that suggests that he really has no idea what the emotional stakes are. The point has flown very far over his pretty head. "I don't want to fight you."

Iorveth finally notices at this point that the tiefling is unarmed. Makes a bit of sense if one considers that Alkam maybe wouldn't want his spawn to be in the possession of pointy objects, but also very telling of the extent to which this spawn's brain really has been scrambled. The self-preservation skills have very literally been beaten out of him; the most he can do is throw his hands up.

"Please, I don't have the antidote on me," he pleads. "It's in the manor... it was supposed to be for you."
]

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