[ The green-blue lighting isn't doing anyone any favors, but it hardly matters: right now, in the aftermath of a decision that could still be cataclysmic for certain ecosystems along the Sword Coast, Astarion is the most beautiful thing Iorveth has seen in ages. Not just in appearance, but in the shape of his anxiously-blooming soul.
Iorveth would embrace him again, if he felt he could get away with it. Not here, though― Astarion is right about the backdrop being all wrong. It'll take a while yet before all the spawn can be corralled out of their ancient prisons, and Petras and the others will likely have their work cut out for them for the next...
...well, however long. They won't be bored, at least. ]
We should leave, then. [ The crowd's movement has halted for a moment, presumably as one of Astarion's siblings go to fetch the remaining brothers and sisters for backup. Iorveth flicks his gaze over towards the direction of where the elevator would be behind the throng of emaciated spawn, and marvels, again, at how many there are. ] ...While we can. I don't plan on spending the night here.
[ Next to Cazador's corpse? No thank you. He takes Astarion's hand and steps forward, fully intending to push himself through the crowd. As if he's not a piece of steakmeat that might get mauled the moment someone decides that they're too hungry to resist. ]
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Iorveth would embrace him again, if he felt he could get away with it. Not here, though― Astarion is right about the backdrop being all wrong. It'll take a while yet before all the spawn can be corralled out of their ancient prisons, and Petras and the others will likely have their work cut out for them for the next...
...well, however long. They won't be bored, at least. ]
We should leave, then. [ The crowd's movement has halted for a moment, presumably as one of Astarion's siblings go to fetch the remaining brothers and sisters for backup. Iorveth flicks his gaze over towards the direction of where the elevator would be behind the throng of emaciated spawn, and marvels, again, at how many there are. ] ...While we can. I don't plan on spending the night here.
[ Next to Cazador's corpse? No thank you. He takes Astarion's hand and steps forward, fully intending to push himself through the crowd. As if he's not a piece of steakmeat that might get mauled the moment someone decides that they're too hungry to resist. ]