[ Astarion and Iorveth spill out into the street, bloodied and broken and (in Astarion's case) covered in preservative fluid. Under normal circumstances, Astarion would be grousing about his hurt leg or how disgusting the stickiness feels on his skin, but he can barely feel those things. They're a distant irritation, like a fly buzzing around his ear, but he has something far more important to focus on.
Thank the gods it's still dark outside. The shadows hide a multitude of sins. Still, as he limps forward, dragging Iorveth along with him, a couple passersby do a double take at the elves who look like they've just committed murder. Astarion trudges forward regardless, a relentless push forward.
It's only when he spots a guard in the distance that he stops. Not just any guard — fucking Linus. Astarion holds his breath, pulling Iorveth into a dark alleyway. ]
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Thank the gods it's still dark outside. The shadows hide a multitude of sins. Still, as he limps forward, dragging Iorveth along with him, a couple passersby do a double take at the elves who look like they've just committed murder. Astarion trudges forward regardless, a relentless push forward.
It's only when he spots a guard in the distance that he stops. Not just any guard — fucking Linus. Astarion holds his breath, pulling Iorveth into a dark alleyway. ]