[ The less time they have to spend in what serves as the physical manifestation of Cazador's atrocities, the better. This place has played spectator to centuries of senseless death and brutalization, and been made complicit by association; it should be dismantled piece by piece.
A future task for Wyll or Jaheira, perhaps. For now, the unhappy duty of clearing it out is left to him and Astarion (mostly Astarion), so Iorveth wastes no time in heading towards the half-open massive double-doors leading into the inner sanctum of the manse, frowning as he catches a glimpse of the gilded rats embossed onto the metal of the door's surface again.
They continue. Past the mess of the ballroom and its decaying mass of corpses, down into the velvet hall with the side room and its hidden elevator. The dais leading down into the crypt glides more smoothly along its invisible rails this time around, as if it's been used more frequently in the past few days.
The dark makes way to dim, green-blue subterranean light. Unlike the surface, there are whispers of activity below them, indistinct conversations in several voices. Glowing red eyes get brighter in the gloom as the elevator hums to a stop, and Iorveth can spot three figures discussing among themselves: one of them looks like Petras, flanked on both sides by a tiefling and an elf, both women. ]
More siblings, [ Iorveth notes blithely. ] They seem to be arguing.
no subject
[ The less time they have to spend in what serves as the physical manifestation of Cazador's atrocities, the better. This place has played spectator to centuries of senseless death and brutalization, and been made complicit by association; it should be dismantled piece by piece.
A future task for Wyll or Jaheira, perhaps. For now, the unhappy duty of clearing it out is left to him and Astarion (mostly Astarion), so Iorveth wastes no time in heading towards the half-open massive double-doors leading into the inner sanctum of the manse, frowning as he catches a glimpse of the gilded rats embossed onto the metal of the door's surface again.
They continue. Past the mess of the ballroom and its decaying mass of corpses, down into the velvet hall with the side room and its hidden elevator. The dais leading down into the crypt glides more smoothly along its invisible rails this time around, as if it's been used more frequently in the past few days.
The dark makes way to dim, green-blue subterranean light. Unlike the surface, there are whispers of activity below them, indistinct conversations in several voices. Glowing red eyes get brighter in the gloom as the elevator hums to a stop, and Iorveth can spot three figures discussing among themselves: one of them looks like Petras, flanked on both sides by a tiefling and an elf, both women. ]
More siblings, [ Iorveth notes blithely. ] They seem to be arguing.