[ Astarion watches Damris warily, feeling very uncertain of that mysterious syringe of liquid. There could be anything in there, and it's rather difficult to trust someone who poisoned Iorveth in the first place. Maybe this has all been part of the plan, to lure Astarion back by affection for his companion and then murder them both, or worse.

His fingers curl into the fabric of Iorveth's shirt, wrinkling it at the back and holding him in place. ]

--I'm sorry.

[ A humorless laugh. ]

I must be mistaken, because I thought I just heard you ask us to keep the evil vampire lord who's enslaved you alive.