[ Of course Iorveth thinks that if the spawn can be free, they should be free. Astarion could have guessed as much. Freedom is one of his strongest values, if not the strongest. Astarion frowns, eyes flicking back to the ghosts of his past who've come back to haunt him. Some of them are crouched on the floor, hunched over, wretched and pathetic. Others are pressed up against the bars, eyes glassy but unmistakably fixed on Iorveth's throat. He turns back, pulling up Iorveth's collar with a sharp tug. ]
I— [ He falters. Is it so wrong to want them gone? He'd finally be free of the last of his ties to Cazador. And yet— how many times did he think the same thing? I don't want to die here. On constant refrain in his mind for two hundred years. ]
no subject
I— [ He falters. Is it so wrong to want them gone? He'd finally be free of the last of his ties to Cazador. And yet— how many times did he think the same thing? I don't want to die here. On constant refrain in his mind for two hundred years. ]
How do you suggest we test their restraint?