[ Iorveth hangs back, not discomfited by the three pair of red eyes that swivel on him momentarily, but heeding Astarion's warnings to be careful. While he doesn't fear any of the vampire spawn present, he can appreciate that it would be monumentally stupid to antagonize three starving creatures who are literally out for blood.
Arms folded, he stands a step and a half behind Astarion, remaining in his shadow. Petras seems to regard that deference with mild scorn, as if he knows that the sullen elf is less than civil; he sneers at Iorveth, to which Iorveth shrugs in response.
Manwhile, the one Astarion pointed out as Dalyria steps forward, brows turned down in a mournful frown at her brother's apparent disregard for the situation at hand. "Of course we doubted. None of us would have dreamed of..." She trails off, and Iorveth thinks he notes a tremor go through her, as if she's afraid to even finish the rest of that sentence. How long they'd all spent wishing to kill Cazador, only to have their spirits broken, Iorveth can't imagine.
Aurelia picks up where her sister left off, sharper in tone than Dalyria. "We'd thought that you'd assumed the master's place－ finished the rite on your own." Some stubborn refusal to acknowledge that the rite couldn't have happened without their blood ritual clings to her expression, torn between anger and uncertainty. "But Petras tells us that that isn't the case, either. And we've seen the..."
She stutters. "...The others. Astarion, they..."
Her frown twists into a deep grimace. Iorveth can sense her unease, less pronounced than Astarion's had been when he'd first seen the spawn in the cages, but similiar. ]
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Arms folded, he stands a step and a half behind Astarion, remaining in his shadow. Petras seems to regard that deference with mild scorn, as if he knows that the sullen elf is less than civil; he sneers at Iorveth, to which Iorveth shrugs in response.
Manwhile, the one Astarion pointed out as Dalyria steps forward, brows turned down in a mournful frown at her brother's apparent disregard for the situation at hand. "Of course we doubted. None of us would have dreamed of..." She trails off, and Iorveth thinks he notes a tremor go through her, as if she's afraid to even finish the rest of that sentence. How long they'd all spent wishing to kill Cazador, only to have their spirits broken, Iorveth can't imagine.
Aurelia picks up where her sister left off, sharper in tone than Dalyria. "We'd thought that you'd assumed the master's place－ finished the rite on your own." Some stubborn refusal to acknowledge that the rite couldn't have happened without their blood ritual clings to her expression, torn between anger and uncertainty. "But Petras tells us that that isn't the case, either. And we've seen the..."
She stutters. "...The others. Astarion, they..."
Her frown twists into a deep grimace. Iorveth can sense her unease, less pronounced than Astarion's had been when he'd first seen the spawn in the cages, but similiar. ]