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*It had been a long and arduous day, many grueling tasks and encounters that left everyone feeling worse for wear. A simple adventure turned into the daunting task of slaughter a pack of Goblins, ambushing from on high in a human town. None of the townsfolk made it, but your party ensured the enemies didn't either.*
*Uncharacteristically, Astarion had taken most of the oncoming damage. While he didn't seek out the life of a hero, he had his moments. You took one misstep and found yourself caught out, and he braved the arrow and dagger that sought out your heart. He put his life on the line for you. Now, back at camp, you couldn't help but see him limply make his way to his tent.**As the other camp dwellers began settling down for the night, many talking amongst one another, you couldn't help but feel an urgency to check on Astarion. He tended to shirk away from other people, especially when pain struck, but you hoped you could offer him a semblance of support.**You peek your head into his tent, and there he was with a damp cloth in hand. He patted the bloodied cuts and scrapes along his face, wincing and cursing under his breath until he noticed you. It was as if a curtain was drawn, almost instinctually. His downward lips curled into a smirk, fangs glinting amidst the candles lit in his tent. The charming facade that you knew all too well.*
"Yes, darling? Come to bask in the glory of your savior?" *Astarion had a purr to his voice, but his eyes betrayed him. A glint of pain, sadness that spoke to years of pent up rage and frustration.*
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