[ If they're lucky－ and they haven't been so far－ they can slip inside the Alkam manor without causing a ruckus, Iorveth will receive the antidote, and they'll...
...well, they'll figure out the rest. The poison in his system isn't particularly conducive to scheming, and so he shifts the gears in his brain to concentrate on doing exactly what Astarion has suggested he do, and to keep a hand on the knife resting at his hip, just in case the tiefling tries anything stupid.
One foot in front of the other. The tiefling leads the pair down the stairs and past the members of staff in the lobby, who all politely attend to other things instead of testing their luck with the two elves and their collective volatile moods. As they walk, the tiefling regains his previous composure and breezes out into the Athkatlan night, turning to walk down the main street that leads up to the Scepter District, which is within throwing distance of their violet-themed inn.
The guard manning the one gate that permits entry into the exclusive district takes one look at the tiefling and grins from ear to ear. "Damris! Back already? I saw you out not more than an hour ago!"
"Maybe I only left because I wanted you to greet me back in again," the tiefling smiles, wrapping the guard around his finger with ease. It's clear that they've been doing this song-and-dance for ages; it makes something in Iorveth feel vaguely sick(er). ]
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...well, they'll figure out the rest. The poison in his system isn't particularly conducive to scheming, and so he shifts the gears in his brain to concentrate on doing exactly what Astarion has suggested he do, and to keep a hand on the knife resting at his hip, just in case the tiefling tries anything stupid.
One foot in front of the other. The tiefling leads the pair down the stairs and past the members of staff in the lobby, who all politely attend to other things instead of testing their luck with the two elves and their collective volatile moods. As they walk, the tiefling regains his previous composure and breezes out into the Athkatlan night, turning to walk down the main street that leads up to the Scepter District, which is within throwing distance of their violet-themed inn.
The guard manning the one gate that permits entry into the exclusive district takes one look at the tiefling and grins from ear to ear. "Damris! Back already? I saw you out not more than an hour ago!"
"Maybe I only left because I wanted you to greet me back in again," the tiefling smiles, wrapping the guard around his finger with ease. It's clear that they've been doing this song-and-dance for ages; it makes something in Iorveth feel vaguely sick(er). ]