glib-and-glamoured

[glib-and-glamoured]

Lorelei took a second to see if the spell had worked. It was hard to tell. Astarion's tone was friendly... but she hesitated to move closer. After all, he had been quite friendly to Tiedan and look where that had gotten him.

Standing out of sight would accomplish nothing, though. Wordlessly, she moved forward to one of the restraints he had nodded toward and took a moment to release it.

"I assume you can undo the others with one hand free?"

He was conscious, but he still looked gaunt and sickly. The rat blood had left a red sheen on his lips that would perhaps look attractive if it weren't so threatening. Hopefully, he wouldn't try to sustain himself on her blood. At the very least, if he did try anything, it looked like it wouldn't be hard to stop him.

"I don't know what time it is outside. Is there a way for us to leave here without being seen? Or going in the sun?"

There were no thoughts, only a bestial hunger that sprang to life within him as the lifeblood was pressed against his lips. Unfortunately, a rat only has a fraction of the blood a larger creature would- for example, a vampire spawn. With little more than a tablespoon of blood the rat was just enough to awaken the vampire, but not much else.

Astarions body tingled with a somewhat numb yet painful sensation- similar to when a person's leg falls asleep, but everywhere. Returning from what would be death for anyone else, the spawn struggled to open his heavy lidded eyes.

Where was he? How long had he been in this state? A day? More? He tried to look around, vision clouded by mists of fractal gray squares obscuring more than he could see through, his head couldn't be heavier if it were made of lead. Fighting to retain his vision, he realized this was the spawn dormitory- though he was not viewing the room from the perspective of one of the bunks. Curious. Normally he'd be cursing out whomever was with him for standing by idly while he desperately needed aid, but he wasn't sure who was with him. If it were a foe he'd not want them to have the advantage of knowing he couldn't even lift a finger, let alone defend himself, if need be.

But who was that voice? It sounded familiar, but the throbbing in his head made any thought difficult to process. Feminine. Soft, yet with an edge of warning to it. Wait, the barmaid? Was that her voice?

Had the bastard really done it? Was she a spawn now too? What did she know- did she blame him? His eyes caught a glint of metal from a buckle near his wrist. Restraints. But why? Cazador didn't need to use physical restraints against him. Godey would, but Astarion wasn't in the kennels. Lorelei... might? Had she restrained him before reviving him to take out her vengeance on him? But then, why hide? He didn't take her to play mind games like his master did. Not unless Cazador'd commanded her to. Then this was a different trap altogether. Perhaps he could play along while he pieced things together, Astarion thought, and hopefully avoid whatever was planned as an encore for the restraints.

"Really now, if we're going to have a conversation you could at least do me the decency of having it face to face and not hiding, hmm?" He said, attempting to speak with his usual cadence and masking his current weakness and the pain even the slightest movement brought. "As much as I'd love to help you with... whatever it is you have planned, I'm afraid there's something you've forgotten? Or, maybe, perhaps didn't realize." he explained with a nod forward.

He paused for dramatic effect. After several moments, the pause became quite awkward. Was he expecting an answer? He hadn't raised his voice at the end of speaking as one usually would when asking.

[glib-and-glamoured]

Lorelei peered through the gap between the door and the wall and watched the events that unfolded. When the group departed, she held her breath as they passed by where she hid.

Alone for a moment, she permitted herself to sink to the floor and take several shaking, heavy breaths. It was enough to steady herself, enough to regain a modicum of rationalization.

The vampire knew of her. Would look for her. Fleeing to the guard and then trotting back to work would not do. Hells, if a nobleman vampire wanted to find her house, her hangouts, or her history it would be a small feat. She needed to defend herself or abandon Baulder's Gate entirely.

She didn't wish for either. The thought of leaving everything felt impossible. She had no real skills or opportunities- she was just a student of magic and had only a few odd jobs worth of experience to her name.

But what did one do against a vampire? She needed more information. There were roves of adventurers that tumbled in and out of the city, but the majority tended to little things- goblins and petty tyrants.

Her thoughts went to Astarion who she had seen carried down the stairs where Petras screams had turned to exhausted, pleading gasps and whimpers. Astarion served the vampire, but he had talked back. Maybe he would help her. Or maybe he would immediately turn her in for renewed favor. She stood up and walked across the ballroom to the writhing rat on the floor. If she fed it to him, according to the other vampire, he should wake. But she needed more assurance of her safety.

She could take him out of here while he was unconscious and hide him somewhere then get some answers. But she didn't think she could carry him- especially not down the ladder and past the guards. Not to mention that if stories were true, the sun would turn him to ash. Wait until night then? Take him to the old tower? She did know a spell of suggestion that would make him follow a command. She would need to get the wording right and there was a chance it wouldn't work on him. But it was better than being turned herself or ending up a beggar on the road.

She reached down and gripped the writhing beast by the scruff, pushing past the unpleasant feel of greasy fur.

The stairs were unguarded. It didn't take long drifting through the halls before she saw the bulking form of a werewolf leaving a room. She waited until it had passed before skirting through it herself and swiftly shutting the door behind herself. The room was less furnished than others, the most obvious feature being a plain wooden coffin at one end. It wasnt hard to guess what could be contained. She just hoped it was the right vampire waiting in its confines. The wood was cool beneath her hand as she lifted the lid with one hand.

It was Astarion, even paler than normal, lips colorless and skin gaunt. He looked truly dead.

She wasn't sure how much he could help her if the sun was out, so she slid against the wall and waited. Waited until the invisibility fizzled out, waited until Petras no longer made noises loud enough to carry through the halls, waited until the rat's twitches became worryingly slow. How long had it been? It felt like hours, but there was no way to be sure.

Lorelei looked down to the rat with uncertainty. Would she need to cut it some way to give Astarion blood? Lorelei didn't have a knife on her, but she did have her keys.

She felt almost bad for the disgusting thing as she angled the edge of the blunt metal against its neck. She yanked viciously.

It was a ragged wound across its neck and probably quite painful to the creature, but it produced the needed blood.

She held the dripping, slowing creature just over the spawn's pale lips and watched with an uneasy interest as Astarion's mouth started to move like a creature dreaming. Quite suddenly, he latched his teeth into the creature and drank.

Yanking back her hand, Lorelei waited. The moment his eyes hazily flickered open she said, "I suggest you aid me against your master for the next eight hours."

She stepped back as she cast the spell, then waited to see if it had worked. Or if she was about to die.

Lorelei couldn't see Astarion or Dalyria's face as they spoke. But the dry resolution in their voices told her that this dialogue was one that was well-rehearsed. And that's how the conversation felt: Rehearsed.

Until the dark-haired man decided that wasn't good enough. Spawn he called them. Spawn. Like vampires? It immediately clicked: The eyes. The complexion. Hell, now that she thought about it, the teeth. And if Astarion and his comrades were spawn then the dark-haired man was...

Lorelei had to pull back the bizarre desire to laugh. She was fucked. Absolutely fucked.

She took a trembling breath and refocused her eyes ahead as the spawn dropped to their knees. Dalyria stayed rigid with terror. But Astarion- his shoulders dropped just as quickly as the words started to fall from his lips. His soothing, sincere tone was practiced at shaping itself to another's desire. In a strange way, Lorelei realized, it reminded her of the way he spoke at the tavern quite frequently. Charming and malleable.

"But first, what have you brought for me this evening?" the vampire said, jolting Lorelei to the present. "Are they waiting in the bedrooms below?"

If they knew there was a person under the table, armed with only a handful of basic spells and a fully stocked circulatory system, their attention would quickly turn a direction she didn't like. And, oh gods, if they brought him people then Tiedan... Tiedan was probably not alive any longer.

She needed to leave. Now. Surely telling the Flaming Fist that a group of vampires were in the palace and a man disappeared here would be enough for them to investigate? At the very least, she would help no one as a bloodless corpse tossed into the Chionthar.

Petras, whose screams and whimpers continued to serve as a horrifying backdrop to the scene, had opened the ballroom door when he left, and the werewolves were still roaming to and fro tending to lights and curtains.

Lorelei scrambled as soundlessly as she could from under the table. She padded cautiously towards the door, doing her best to ignore the discussion behind her.

She would get out of the ballroom. Walk through the hall. Unlock the front door. Stand in the sun where this whole lot would turn to ash before they could touch her. Easy.

She had gotten to the ballroom door when Dalyria exclaimed anxiously, "A... Astarion brought back a mark... last night... a mark that someone noticed went missing."

Lorelei lurched to a standstill. They were talking about her.

The terror that turned in her now became an animal thing. The type that made drowning people scratch would-be saviours and those who were hiding scream loud enough to be found.

Rather than run as her legs demanded, she skirted behind the open door, clenching her jaw around a stupid sob. She needed to focus. What were they going to do about her?

[glib-and-glamoured]

Lorelei couldn't see Astarion or Dalyria's face as they spoke. But the dry resolution in their voices told her that this dialogue was one that was well-rehearsed. And that's how the conversation felt: Rehearsed.

Until the dark-haired man decided that wasn't good enough. Spawn he called them. Spawn. Like vampires? It immediately clicked: The eyes. The complexion. Hell, now that she thought about it, the teeth. And if Astarion and his comrades were spawn then the dark-haired man was...

Lorelei had to pull back the bizarre desire to laugh. She was fucked. Absolutely fucked.

She took a trembling breath and refocused her eyes ahead as the spawn dropped to their knees. Dalyria stayed rigid with terror. But Astarion- his shoulders dropped just as quickly as the words started to fall from his lips. His soothing, sincere tone was practiced at shaping itself to another's desire. In a strange way, Lorelei realized, it reminded her of the way he spoke at the tavern quite frequently. Charming and malleable.

"But first, what have you brought for me this evening?" the vampire said, jolting Lorelei to the present. "Are they waiting in the bedrooms below?"

If they knew there was a person under the table, armed with only a handful of basic spells and a fully stocked circulatory system, their attention would quickly turn a direction she didn't like. And, oh gods, if they brought him people then Tiedan... Tiedan was probably not alive any longer.

She needed to leave. Now. Surely telling the Flaming Fist that a group of vampires were in the palace and a man disappeared here would be enough for them to investigate? At the very least, she would help no one as a bloodless corpse tossed into the Chionthar.

Petras, whose screams and whimpers continued to serve as a horrifying backdrop to the scene, had opened the ballroom door when he left, and the werewolves were still roaming to and fro tending to lights and curtains.

Lorelei scrambled as soundlessly as she could from under the table. She padded cautiously towards the door, doing her best to ignore the discussion behind her.

She would get out of the ballroom. Walk through the hall. Unlock the front door. Stand in the sun where this whole lot would turn to ash before they could touch her. Easy.

She had gotten to the ballroom door when Dalyria exclaimed anxiously, "A... Astarion brought back a mark... last night... a mark that someone noticed went missing."

Lorelei lurched to a standstill. They were talking about her.

The terror that turned in her now became an animal thing. The type that made drowning people scratch would-be saviours and those who were hiding scream loud enough to be found.

Rather than run as her legs demanded, she skirted behind the open door, clenching her jaw around a stupid sob. She needed to focus. What were they going to do about her?

Lorelei might notice that the fare at the tables was that of an exquisite pallet. Whoever had been at Cazador's party were of high status. There was an open guest book at the doorway were she curious enough to check. A scene indeed, with more strangeness to come. As the sun rose, instead of extinguishing the candles and opening the curtains as one might normally do, the werewolves went about ensuring not a beam of light got past the curtains, and any candles that had gone out were replaced with new ones. Astarion glanced to the bludgeoned rats, twitching on the stairs, a sight that was unfortunately all too familiar by now. He was disgusted with himself as he felt his mouth salivate at a meal most would think too cruel to serve dogs. If he said yes, all he'd need do was push through the repulsion and it would be over. 

"Yes. Sir." The silver haired spawn responded in unison with his sibling, their voices as empty as a butlers who'd been asked to carry bags to someone's room.

"Such enthusiasm." Cazador mocked, "I don't think you really appreciate what I do for you. Not good enough for you?" He asked. 

"Please, sir. We would like-" Astarion started but was interrupted by Cazador.

"On you knees, spawn." The vampire slowly commanded, pointing to the ground in front of his feet. The two were compelled to obey.

Dalyria kept silent as she groveled. She knew Astarion thought he had the silver tongue between them, if he volunteered to take Cazador's attention she had no reason to stop him. As degrading as all of this was, Astarion couldn't help but fantasize what it would be like if the tables were turned- how he'd love to make that bastard grovel on the ground in front of him instead.

"Gracious Master." Astarion began again, attempting to sound sincere. "We are forever grateful for all that you do for us. We would only be too honored to partake in this wonderful dinner you've so thoughtfully brought for us." he finished, careful not to lay it on too thick. 

Cazador held Astarion in his sights a moment, the spawn holding a forced smile, unsure how his Master would react. "Alright then." he responded, in a deceptively cheerful tone. "But first, what have you brought for me this evening? Are they waiting in the bedrooms below?"

Astarion felt his stomach tightening, he glanced over to Dalyria who was already staring back at him with "help me" eyes. That look was all it took to tell him she hadn't had any luck either. 

"Ah, well, you see..." Astarion stammered, "The, ah, sailors have all shipped out you see, and the streets are so empty..." He gulped as Cazador leaned in closer with a look that might turn a lesser spawn to stone. "There simply isn't... aren't any good marks... ah." If it were possible for the pale elf to turn any paler he would have.

Cazador understood, but he would not forgive. "Enough excuses." Szarr snarled, and jabbed the spawn with his staff so hard it sent him crumpling the ground, doubled over in pain.

Cazador turned his frightening gaze to the other, growling her name and stepping toward her, "Dalyria?"

She panicked, knowing her master's rage was about to be unleashed upon her. Once his abuse began, there was no stopping it. But perhaps she could be clever and redirect it? Her eyes fell to her brother, picking himself up off the floor.

"A... Astarion brought back a mark... last night... a mark that someone noticed went missing. He... he brought back someone important... There will be questions now." Dalyria accused while trying to hide her trembling. Astarion's face fell as he heard her betray him, as she tried to turn Cazador's full wrath on him in an attempt to save herself. He shouldn't have been surprised, he knew he shouldn't have been. Any other time realizing the only ally he thought he had in this unending nightmare might have disappointed him or left him feeling lonely, but at the moment all he he felt was sheer terror.

"Astarion, is this true?" Cazador asked, his voice terrifyingly calm.

[glib-and-glamoured]

It was the first sequence of wet, tearing sounds as the werewolves transformed that solidified to Lorelei that she was well and truly out of her depth. She had expected slavers. Perhaps a rich lord with twisted desires. But these were a primeval sort of monstrosity that she had never considered could be encountered in her small life.

Adventurers would hunt these creatures outside the walls. Out there, this sort of thing might be common. But while Baulder's Gate had its share of intrigues- cults and criminal undergrounds, political corruption and poverty- mythical beasts were supposed to be something the city was exempt from.

As the white wolf's ears swiveled in her direction, she froze. It walked close, scenting the air. It's eager nose missed her by a mere hands-length. She pressed a hand against her mouth and, pushing herself as far back against the wall as she could, ran through her options. Cornered as she was, she could not move past it. Casting any spells would divert her attention from the invisibility, rendering her entirely exposed.

She tucked a hand into her pocket, feeling through the few spell components and the little gold she kept on her person. Her fingers brushed against smooth glass. A little vial of sulphur she had bought recently. It had been intended for a summoning she wished to attempt, but...

The dark-haired elf started to speak sharply and the wolf looked towards him. She took the opportunity to unstopper and toss the tiny vial a few feet away. There was a tinkle of glass as it clinked against the stone, the sound covered partially by the pleading voice of Petras.

The wolf moved directly to the sound. Sniffing, it let out a whine and recoiled, pawing at its nose. The strong odor would be enough to dull its sense of smell temporarily. She made the risky decision to pad across the floor to a banquet table she had missed before. It was littered with the remnants of wine and foodscraps. Maybe her scent would be lost beneath that of the dwindled feast. As she shimmied beneath the table cloth, she went to one uplifted edge to peer out. Focused on the wolf as she had been, she was only vaguely aware of the words of the nobleman and the departure of Petras. The room was eerily quiet now, and she wondered if they were listening for her...

In the distance rose the sound of Petras' torment. She felt her stomach drop. The black-haired man, standing above the others, looked pleased with himself at the sound in a way that made her have to consciously choose not to recoil. And the way he spoke to Astarion and Dalyria... Called them his 'children'...

This man had all the oily self-assurance of rich patrons who thought holding gold meant that anything and anyone they wanted was within their power. But judging by the way all paid deference to this man's outburst, judging by the monsters he kept at his side and Petras' obedient descent to his own punishment; Lorelei had the uneasy suspicion that the dark-haired man truly possessed the power that most noble's only pretended to control.

Where was Tiedan in all this? Was he laid out beside the still-screaming Petras?

It was hard to focus on the question as the man pulled out two still-squirming rats, calling them dinner. Surely they wouldn't be made to eat the raw things... Her morbid curiosity latched her eyes to the scene even as part of her demanded that she flee.

Astarion and his siblings gathered around a dark haired elf with cruel eyes and a mouth that curled in annoyance. The few remaining "guests" gave a look around, and upon seeing they were alone, one by one took turn moving unnaturally as their bodies contorted and changed. Clumps of hair sprouted across their bodies, with grunts and groans their arms and legs became lanky with disgusting gnarled fingers and threatening claws within a matter of seconds. The vampire and his spawn paid them no mind, as if this were no more out of the ordinary than a pet cat stretching. With hellacious animalistic sounds, the once guests now had mangey wolf-like appearances. Werewolves! Lorelei was in a room of werewolves!

A moment later a giant white wolf brushed past her, nearly running into her. The thing was massive, several times larger than a regular dog would be. Standing flat on all four feet its head was nearly as high as hers! Suddenly it stopped, and began sniffing the air. It swung its huge head around in her general direction, smelling something, but wasn't quite sure where the delicious smell was coming from. It licked its lips hungrily, taking a few exploratory steps toward her.

"I told you to stay in the kennels!" Cazador spat at Petras with words as sharp as his fangs.

"I... That was this morning. I thought you wanted..." Petras cowered before the man who was now scowling down at him.

"You dare blame me for your incompetence?" Cazador accused in a deceptively calm tone as Petras cowered lower. "After poisoning your father last night, you dare insult me now? You knew I had an engagement this evening, one that was incredibly important to all our well being. An engagement I suffered during due to you intentionally sabotaging me!" Cazador continued, his voice escalating.

"After everything I've done for you. Ungrateful child. Wretched child! I could barely walk when I awoke!" He slammed his fist down on his chair and stood. "It is clear you've learned nothing. You force my hand to punish you more for your bad behavior!"

"No Father! No! Mercy! Please, Father! Mercy!" Petras begged, falling to his knees.

"Why are you still here?!" Cazador snarled. "You mustn't keep Godey waiting! Go now!" he commanded, and Petras began limping away from the ball room, his face twisted in fear. "Now!" Cazador repeated, and Petras went as fast as he could hobble out of there, even though it was clear from his wincing it pained him a great deal to do so.

The two remaining vampire spawn stood in front of their master, trying very much to not cower as Petras' shuffling footsteps grew further and further away. The elder vampire let the silence hang so long it expired and became palpably stale. His eyes darted between the remaining two, almost daring them to be foolish enough to say anything to break it. Uncomfortable minutes passed as the pair waited anxiously, neither daring move without command.

From below, a tortured man's voice cried out in pain. Astarion failed atsd hiding a shudder, while Cazador's lips relaxed into a pleasured smile. "Good. Good. His lesson has begun. You both would do well to learn from your brother's folly, and be good obedient children." he warned in a voice dripping with sickly sweet charm. "I've ensured Godey understood the importance of Petras not forgetting this lesson, and that he take his time. With any luck your brother's sweet voice will be serenading us from the rack until night falls. Perhaps... a week leaving him with his limbs disconnected will be enough to keep him from repeating this mistake again." Cazador revealed, drinking in the spawns increasingly tortured cries of pain like a fine vintage wine.

"One naughty child sent for punishment. Two good children left. I can't wait to see what you've brought me for dinner. Oh! But of course, I haven't forgotten about yours!" Cazador told them with the airs of someone who might have just bought their child a pony. He reached into a satchel around his waist and pulled out a pair of rats, which he tossed to the floor where they lay twitching, looking near dead from their caved in skulls.

"A gift. Would you like it?" The dark haired vampire asked his spawn.

[glib-and-glamoured]

"You live in a palace?" She replied, trying to sound impressed. "Maybe I would like to see it. Though, I've never been in one before. I might embarrass you. Are there ghosts?"

He responded, smoothly disentangled himself from the conversation then headed for the door. He had an air of disappointment about him that she didn’t quite trust. With the door closed behind him, she turned back to the tavern. Her eye snagged on a pale form. That's right. Dalyria was still there. No drink in hand. Head almost pointedly angled away. Usually, the group left together. What had she heard? Was she there to take care of loose ends?

"Last call," Lorelei yelled into the room. A few patrons paid off a tab and tumbled into the night. Only two wanted a closing drink. Lorelei was relieved to see Dalyria make her way out with the main crowd. Lorelei had hoped to follow Astarion, but she couldn't leave the establishment with customers still inside. She bundled out the last two drinkers as soon as she saw they had finished, apologizing and saying she had somewhere to be.

She looked to the sky. It would be dawn soon, and people in the palace would be waking. She had to hurry. Szarr Palace... She had been by it before. It wasn't far from Sorcerous Sundries where she had gone with her mother when she was little and sometimes still returned to look longingly at the tomes.

There would be guards probably. She hadn't considered that before. What was her excuse if she was caught? If they really were Guild, excuses wouldn't matter. She paused for a moment. Why was she doing this? If Astarion was really taking these people off to who knows where, she had been letting it happen for quite some time. She could turn a blind eye. Or tell someone else to look into it and leave the responsibility to them.

But letting it lie wasn't an option. She basically ran the tavern. Pretending nothing was going on would practically be serving up victims to an unknown end. And she could imagine what the Fist would say if she tried turning it over to them. The way that they'd look haughty and wave her away. Just another delusional petitioner. No. No one would do anything without evidence or testimony from someone who could corroborate her story. Most importantly, she couldn't live with herself if she didn't even look into it.

The sky was just starting to color as she reached the palace. In its shadow, she spoke the words softly and felt a trickling coolness as the invisibility covered her. Getting to the door of the palace proved to be nerve-fraying. She treaded lightly up steps and across the ramparts. When she climbed up a ladder, she had to avoid the notice of three guards. Even invisible, she felt she would be noticed any moment. When she finally reached the entrance into the palace, she realized she had been holding her breath. The sun was just breaking over the horizon now. She pressed an ear to the front door, but the wood was thick. She couldn't make out anything.

The handle jostled and she only had a moment to step aside before a young nobleman wearing fine but noticeably mussed clothes was allowed out by a servant.

"Bollocks, it's bright," the man mumbled. He hesitated in the sun for a moment, and Lorelei took the opportunity to skirt past him and the servant into a large, ornate corridor. The servant bid the gentleman good morning, shut the door, and went down the hallway.

Lorelei had the wherewithal to step to the side before taking a moment to bask in the sight of the place. Her head tilted up in wonder. She had never seen this much gold. This much velvet. Large paintings stared down from their frames, and clever alcoves hid solemn statues. Floors gleamed, gilding glinted. It was altogether suffocating in splendor. She immediately understood what Astarion had meant- the place was beautiful, but something about it was haunting.

A trickle of conversation caught her ear. She followed it to a large door on the other end of the corridor. The room was large. A dance floor. No, these were nobles. A ballroom. She immediately recognized a figure, hovering at the edge of the room. Petras. Wait. All of Astarion's pale companions were here. Where was he? She'd hardly thought this when he strode in soundlessly beside where she stood. She froze as he nearly brushed against the edge of her cloak. She'd never noticed how quiet he was. He walked to another edge of the room and took up his own place by the wall. They all seemed to be waiting for something, and whatever it was looked to be unpleasant. Their demeanors ranged from anxious to resolved.

In sharp contrast, in the center of the room, an equally pale nobleman spoke regally to a pair of finely dressed ladies who giggled in a fawning way. He kissed their hands, said farewell, and waved for the servant to escort them out. The servant took the time to shut both the heavy doors of the ballroom as he led the ladies out. Shit. She was trapped in the room with this odd, pale retinue. Lorelei saw a cabinet in one corner and wedged herself in its shadow, waiting to see what would happen next.

"Nothing!" Her mouth moved before she could think. "I didn't even see him this morning." Though the words were true, her tone was all wrong. She sounded nervous. Her smile had fallen without her noticing.

She needed to find an excuse for how strange she was acting right now.

She cleared her throat and tried again. "We weren't close or anything, but we'd talk sometimes when he came in. I just thought he'd come by tonight. And um," She tried to look embarrassed, looking down at her feet, "we were going to talk about, well... you. Sorry. Nothing mean! Just if your house was spooky and such. Can't blame a barmaid for being curious. And you are so mysterious. Please don't tell the owner. I'm so embarrassed." She gave her best chagrined smile. If he thought she was just a silly barmaid, maybe he wouldn't bother with her.

One thing was certain: Tiedan was definitely in danger. She started to pull together a plan. When the evening was through, she would try her hand at sneaking into the Szarr Palace. Gather some evidence or something. No stunts or anything to get her killed, just enough to go to the Flaming Fist or get Tiedan to safety. But first she needed to make it through this conversation. She glanced at Astarion's face, trying to read his expression.

[glib-and-glamoured]

"Nothing!" Her mouth moved before she could think. "I didn't even see him this morning." Though the words were true, her tone was all wrong. She sounded nervous. Her smile had fallen without her noticing.

She needed to find an excuse for how strange she was acting right now.

She cleared her throat and tried again. "We weren't close or anything, but we'd talk sometimes when he came in. I just thought he'd come by tonight. And um," She tried to look embarrassed, looking down at her feet, "we were going to talk about, well... you. Sorry. Nothing mean! Just if your house was spooky and such. Can't blame a barmaid for being curious. And you are so mysterious. Please don't tell the owner. I'm so embarrassed." She gave her best chagrined smile. If he thought she was just a silly barmaid, maybe he wouldn't bother with her.

One thing was certain: Tiedan was definitely in danger. She started to pull together a plan. When the evening was through, she would try her hand at sneaking into the Szarr Palace. Gather some evidence or something. No stunts or anything to get her killed, just enough to go to the Flaming Fist or get Tiedan to safety. But first she needed to make it through this conversation. She glanced at Astarion's face, trying to read his expression.

Astarion noticed the pause, and that the barmaid was acting different than usual. He was better than most at noticing such things, as it was a skill that sometimes helped him predict and avoid the wrath of his master. But should he call her out on it? If he didn't figure out what it was now, it very well might become a larger burden in the near future.

"There's something you're hiding." he started, trying to figure out why she was acting so strange. "Did Tiedan say something before he left with the others this morning?" he conjected. Until that moment Astarion hadn't given the man much thought, assuming Cazador had ended him that night as he did any other victim. Though, the prior evening had been an unusual one. He hadn't expected the man to show up on his doorstep, though it wasn't a mystery why he did. Astarion did not disappoint, though he didn't remember much of the act aside from letting the fisherman do most of the work. The rest, he'd blocked out, mentally somewhere else. He went through the motions like an automata enacting the performance it was built to do, and had done many times over. Once it was finished, his partners had usually wore themselves out and would sleep until Cazador collected them at his leisure. The spawn didn't want to wait around for that to happen, didn't want to see the look of betrayal- or what came after.

Cazador had taken the dwarf when they first arrived, and they later realized was unaware of how intoxicated it had been. When Astarion ascended to the upper level, he'd found Cazador wandering about with only one shoe on. His master scolded him for casting mirror image and being foolish, which he didn't even know how to do. Cazador then went storming about the palace, shouting for whoever was whistling to stop- but no one had made a sound. Borten also got a scolding after Cazador faceplanted on the floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing, flying the castle around in broad daylight?! If anyone sees there will be questions!" for which Borten profusely apologized in utter confusion. Astarion found the whole situation hilarious but decided to keep that to himself.

Though now he wondered, had Tiedan woke up alone and left before Cazador found him? His master had been quite a mess indeed. In a den of vampires, it was unlikely. But if he had, why go back and talk to the barmaid, of all people? What had he said to her?

"Wait, you're friends with him, aren't you?" Astarion finally accused, though not necessarily for the correct reasons. "What did he tell you?" Something about their night together? Or perhaps the palace? Or... goodness if he had wandered about, what had he seen. Hopefully nothing that the spawn need worry about.

[glib-and-glamoured]

She gave a polite laugh in return as her mind raced to find a response. Her fears found purchase. Something was very wrong. Astarion had been with Tiedan after the bar, and now he was saying Tiedan had shipped out somewhere? He must have thought Tiedan was a sailor. Like Borten... So Petras was in on it too. Then they both were taken and... and who knows. Surely something unpleasant. Tiedan had mentioned Szarr castle. Maybe he was still there before they sold him or whatever they did.

She couldn't say anything directly or she might "ship off" as well, but she needed to respond. Her pause had become noticeable.

"A crush? No. I don't fraternize with customers. But I'm sure you noticed too that he isn't hard on the eyes. Sounds like you had fun. Sorry he couldn't stay longer- you do have a knack for finding the ones who don't linger, huh?" She hoped her laugh sounded easy. It didn't feel that way.

"What can I do for you this evening, then? I don't have any fine gentlemen in the back, but I might have some bottles to keep your mind off them."

Lorelei saw Astarion and his companion the moment they walked in. She averted her eyes and turned to add to the fireplace. She needed a moment to think.

Alright. He was here. Tiedan wasn't. It needn't be something strange.

But her heart was beating fast now, and her stomach turned in a way that screamed that something was wrong.

I could just ask, she thought. But a little paranoid piece of her chided. If something bad had happened to Tiedan and Astarion was part of it, asking openly might put herself in danger. She glanced over again. She had looked at him on many nights, but this was the first time she tried to pry something from him. He didn't seem to be acting any different-he was already trying to chat someone up. His shirt was well-stitched, but the ruffle wasn't starched like what the nobles wore now. Out of date, perhaps? And he did buy his drinks here instead of at one of the city's many better offerings. A noble or something down on his luck then. She grabbed a tray and started to pick up some empty mugs to keep her hands busy.

He always spent freely, though. He would tip well on top of paying for himself and any 'friend' he made. A thought crossed her mind then, and she felt her skin prickle. She had always thought him an innocent flirt, but had any of his other lovers come back the next day? She wracked her brain, but so many customers traveled it was hard to keep the who's and when's straight...

Get a grip, she told herself. What are you even accusing him of right now? You think he's a slaver or something because a favorite customer doesn't show up for a drink?

A motion caught her eye. Astarion had sat at the bar and was trying to wave her over. She inhaled deeply and put on her amicable, bartender smile. "Be there in a moment!"

Shit. She took her tray through the door behind the bar and left it by the sink. Her eyes skimmed past the crossbow on the wall. "Peace keeper", Greyson called it. Well, it would be there if she needed backup.

She walked behind the bar and leaned over to Astarion. "Back again so soon?" She said. And, because she was an absolute idiot, "I'm surprised. The young man you were speaking with seemed to take a shine to you. Figured you'd keep each other busy for a while."

She kept her tone playful and gave a little wink to make it clear it was a joke. It was something she might say on any other night. She was known to gossip and tease. She just hoped the way she searched his face for a reaction wasn't obvious.

[glib-and-glamoured]

Lorelei saw Astarion and his companion the moment they walked in. She averted her eyes and turned to add to the fireplace. She needed a moment to think.

Alright. He was here. Tiedan wasn't. It needn't be something strange.

But her heart was beating fast now, and her stomach turned in a way that screamed that something was wrong.

I could just ask, she thought. But a little paranoid piece of her chided. If something bad had happened to Tiedan and Astarion was part of it, asking openly might put herself in danger. She glanced over again. She had looked at him on many nights, but this was the first time she tried to pry something from him. He didn't seem to be acting any different-he was already trying to chat someone up. His shirt was well-stitched, but the ruffle wasn't starched like what the nobles wore now. Out of date, perhaps? And he did buy his drinks here instead of at one of the city's many better offerings. A noble or something down on his luck then. She grabbed a tray and started to pick up some empty mugs to keep her hands busy.

He always spent freely, though. He would tip well on top of paying for himself and any 'friend' he made. A thought crossed her mind then, and she felt her skin prickle. She had always thought him an innocent flirt, but had any of his other lovers come back the next day? She wracked her brain, but so many customers traveled it was hard to keep the who's and when's straight...

Get a grip, she told herself. What are you even accusing him of right now? You think he's a slaver or something because a favorite customer doesn't show up for a drink?

A motion caught her eye. Astarion had sat at the bar and was trying to wave her over. She inhaled deeply and put on her amicable, bartender smile. "Be there in a moment!"

Shit. She took her tray through the door behind the bar and left it by the sink. Her eyes skimmed past the crossbow on the wall. "Peace keeper", Greyson called it. Well, it would be there if she needed backup.

She walked behind the bar and leaned over to Astarion. "Back again so soon?" She said. And, because she was an absolute idiot, "I'm surprised. The young man you were speaking with seemed to take a shine to you. Figured you'd keep each other busy for a while."

She kept her tone playful and gave a little wink to make it clear it was a joke. It was something she might say on any other night. She was known to gossip and tease. She just hoped the way she searched his face for a reaction wasn't obvious.

Tiedan rubbed a thumb along the inlay of his cup. Obligation. How fitting and demoralizing to have that serve as an end to the evening.

"I don't mean to interfere. Sounds like you have something important to tend to," he said to Petras. Then, turning to Astarion, he continued, "Thanks for the drink. And the conversation. Maybe we'll cross paths again. I certainly hope we do." Despite his best efforts, he could tell his smile had become a small, sad expression.

Accounts were quickly paid, and Astarion and his companions went out into the drizzly night.

Try as he might, Tiedan found no solace in the last of his wine. What played through his mind more than the flirtation was that moment when Astarion's face had gone still. His voice had sounded nearly pained. And perhaps Tiedan had imagined it, but for an instant, the pale elf had looked heart-wrenchingly sad.

Tiedan knew hesitation and pain and sorrow.

Knowing Astarion contained the same changed something. The feeling wasn't love. He was not so naive as to mistake shared pain or pleasure for that. But it now felt as if he and Astarion might be able to share in escapism rather than use one another for it. The thought was a pleasantness that left an ache.

He looked to Lorelei and lifted his cup to get her attention.

"Do I owe you anything?" He said when she walked over.

She shook her head. "Your new friend settled your bill. Surprised he didn't take you home!" She had a hand on her hip and a playful smile. They had never gotten to be friends exactly, but there was a shared appreciation between them. Tiedan paid his bills and was a polite, quiet thing, and Lorelei offered an ear and the occasional word of kindness when it was sorely needed.

"He offered... Actually, do you know where the Szarr castle is?"

She whistled. "Is that where he's from? No wonder he has money." She shared the directions then quirked an eyebrow. "You going out there tonight?"

Tiedan nodded. "I think I'll go now."

"Go get em, lover boy! And tell me what a castle is like. Oh, and if Astarion has anything weird or evil laying around! I bet he's some sort of spy. Or a retired assassin."

"I'll come back with a full report tomorrow," he said with a chagrined smile. He pulled his cloak on, gave a short, little wave to Lorelei, and stepped into the night. For a moment in the doorway, the rain water caught up the light of the brothel's red lantern, framing him in a shower of crimson.

The next day started in the normal way for Lorelei. She woke up when the sun was already high up, ate a small, cheap breakfast, and started to copy over a spell scroll she'd gotten from an adventurer. It would allow her to produce poison from thin air. Simple, but possibly useful. When the sun was starting to set, she pulled on her cloak, dodged her neighbor's children as they ran past, locked the door to her side of the house, and made her familiar way to the Tavern.

She hummed as she pulled chairs down off the tables and set things up for the evening. The weather was nice today. Moods would be higher and floors would be cleaner. She exercised her ability to take happiness in little things. Greyson, the owner of the tavern, ran accounts behind the bar, but, as always, left before customers showed up. The man had once joked that he was allergic to work. Lorelei suspected he was actually just a bit of a lazy ass.

As customers trickled in, she remembered that Tiedan was supposed to come back with gossip later. She spotted a man who worked on the same dock as Tiedan- Randall. They would sometimes stop in together.

"Is Tiedan following? He said he'd be in tonight and I suspect he has a story for me!" she said as she slid a mug before Randall.

"Tiedan? No... Now that you mention it, he wasn't on his boat today. Odd that. Man's never missed a day of work for nothing less than a hurricane."

Odd indeed. Tiedan was taking care of a mother and sister since his father died as Lorelei understood it. He almost always had complaints about his finances. He may have hated his work- but he would hate missing it just as much.

As the night stretched, Lorelei found a worry for him lodged in her. She misheard two orders and kept fidgeting with her scarf and hair when her mind wandered. Had he gotten mixed up in Guild business or something? Had she encouraged it? Every time the door opened, she checked for his face. It was getting uncomfortably late.

[glib-and-glamoured]

Tiedan rubbed a thumb along the inlay of his cup. Obligation. How fitting and demoralizing to have that serve as an end to the evening.

"I don't mean to interfere. Sounds like you have something important to tend to," he said to Petras. Then, turning to Astarion, he continued, "Thanks for the drink. And the conversation. Maybe we'll cross paths again. I certainly hope we do." Despite his best efforts, he could tell his smile had become a small, sad expression.

Accounts were quickly paid, and Astarion and his companions went out into the drizzly night.

Try as he might, Tiedan found no solace in the last of his wine. What played through his mind more than the flirtation was that moment when Astarion's face had gone still. His voice had sounded nearly pained. And perhaps Tiedan had imagined it, but for an instant, the pale elf had looked heart-wrenchingly sad.

Tiedan knew hesitation and pain and sorrow.

Knowing Astarion contained the same changed something. The feeling wasn't love. He was not so naive as to mistake shared pain or pleasure for that. But it now felt as if he and Astarion might be able to share in escapism rather than use one another for it. The thought was a pleasantness that left an ache.

He looked to Lorelei and lifted his cup to get her attention.

"Do I owe you anything?" He said when she walked over.

She shook her head. "Your new friend settled your bill. Surprised he didn't take you home!" She had a hand on her hip and a playful smile. They had never gotten to be friends exactly, but there was a shared appreciation between them. Tiedan paid his bills and was a polite, quiet thing, and Lorelei offered an ear and the occasional word of kindness when it was sorely needed.

"He offered... Actually, do you know where the Szarr castle is?"

She whistled. "Is that where he's from? No wonder he has money." She shared the directions then quirked an eyebrow. "You going out there tonight?"

Tiedan nodded. "I think I'll go now."

"Go get em, lover boy! And tell me what a castle is like. Oh, and if Astarion has anything weird or evil laying around! I bet he's some sort of spy. Or a retired assassin."

"I'll come back with a full report tomorrow," he said with a chagrined smile. He pulled his cloak on, gave a short, little wave to Lorelei, and stepped into the night. For a moment in the doorway, the rain water caught up the light of the brothel's red lantern, framing him in a shower of crimson.

The next day started in the normal way for Lorelei. She woke up when the sun was already high up, ate a small, cheap breakfast, and started to copy over a spell scroll she'd gotten from an adventurer. It would allow her to produce poison from thin air. Simple, but possibly useful. When the sun was starting to set, she pulled on her cloak, dodged her neighbor's children as they ran past, locked the door to her side of the house, and made her familiar way to the Tavern.

She hummed as she pulled chairs down off the tables and set things up for the evening. The weather was nice today. Moods would be higher and floors would be cleaner. She exercised her ability to take happiness in little things. Greyson, the owner of the tavern, ran accounts behind the bar, but, as always, left before customers showed up. The man had once joked that he was allergic to work. Lorelei suspected he was actually just a bit of a lazy ass.

As customers trickled in, she remembered that Tiedan was supposed to come back with gossip later. She spotted a man who worked on the same dock as Tiedan- Randall. They would sometimes stop in together.

"Is Tiedan following? He said he'd be in tonight and I suspect he has a story for me!" she said as she slid a mug before Randall.

"Tiedan? No... Now that you mention it, he wasn't on his boat today. Odd that. Man's never missed a day of work for nothing less than a hurricane."

Odd indeed. Tiedan was taking care of a mother and sister since his father died as Lorelei understood it. He almost always had complaints about his finances. He may have hated his work- but he would hate missing it just as much.

As the night stretched, Lorelei found a worry for him lodged in her. She misheard two orders and kept fidgeting with her scarf and hair when her mind wandered. Had he gotten mixed up in Guild business or something? Had she encouraged it? Every time the door opened, she checked for his face. It was getting uncomfortably late.

"We need to get you home, lad." Petras told to Borten in a warm friendly tone, "Though, I can't fault you for wanting to live it up tonight. Got to, while you can, right?" He gave a wink to Lorelei and continued, "Just one more. Because I'm such a nice guy. But then we really have to go." Petras reached for a carafe of water and poured it into a recently emptied mug while the dwarf was distracted trying to keep the table from swimming away in the liquor he'd already drank.

"I've got just the thing for your last drink too! A smooth vodka. Goes down smooth, hard, and fast. Hmm. Though... we have to be sure you haven't had too much already. Tell you what, you can have as much of it as you can drink in one gulp." Petras nodded, thinking himself quite clever. With as much as that dwarf already had, his senses would be dull enough alcohol probably tasted like water as it was. Hopefully he'd think Petras had been in his corner for one last drink of an unquenchable thirst, making him more manageable. Any onlooker would likely see it as a kind gesture, a little white lie to get him to drink water, easing the inevitable hangover that would find him at daybreak.

"Drink up! Drink up! One last, down the hatch!" the man with the toothy grin commanded the inebriated dwarf, who likely didn't need to be told twice.

Astarion swirled the drink in his glass and gave it a sniff as he listened to the other make promises for days they both knew would never happen. He gave a smile as the other awkwardly flirted, playing right into his hand. He thought it was cute, like a pup trying to imitate the barks of larger dogs. "Nothing at all? My goodness, how scandalous. You are cheeky." he teased with faux scolding. "But I can hardly blame you, imagining me in nothing at all. After all, I have the finest body out of anyone here. And the best hair." He smirked, as a lock of hair fell just so across his forehead.

The light skinned man continued in a lower, more sultry voice, "But why wait for the Sword Coast?" He licked the tip of his finger, then pressed it against the fabric over Tiedan's collar bone. "Seems your clothes are already wet. Aren't they? We'll need to get you out of them." He continued seductively.

"Aw for me?" Petras interrupted, grabbing the neck of the bottle Astarion had ordered, "A nice little treat for the road. Come on, time to go." He demanded, inebriated dwarf over his shoulder in one hand, bottle of wine at his lips in the other.

"Excuse you, Petras. We've only just sat down, I've barely had any time to get to know my companion here. Before you rudely interrupted us!" Astarion shot back while Petras smiled back impudently.

He loved seeing Astarion get riled up, and he made it so easy to do too. "You and I both know we couldn't be out long with what's happening at home tonight. And now we've got a little detour to make sure gets home safe." Petras continued with another swig of wine.

"You're bringing the dwarf?!" Astarion exclaimed in exasperation, his eyes more narrow than the gap at the front of Sharesses' corset. "He'll probably be carrying on the whole way back. Eugh!" He gave an exasperated huff while taking a sip of wine from his goblet and mulled the situation over. He probably could get his mark back with him, even with so short a preamble. But another thought buzzed in his mind. He didn't want to. Were the situation different, he had no doubt this young man would be sweet to him, chat him up the whole night. Astarion tried to dismiss it, not see the parts of Tiedan that reminded him of who he once was. And another thought... if only things had gone differently, his own life wouldn't have been ruined. But to try to defy his master? It was something he was incapable of doing, just the attempt alone was punishable by torture. His eyes glanced over to the smiling man. A smiling man who did nothing to deserve this. But did Astarion? Perhaps... he could be careless, give the man a chance to escape without defying Cazador. With the dwarf they'd have done what was necessary, the second mark slipping away could go unnoticed. Right?

Astarion recollected his charm that Petras had sent tumbling a moment earlier, and turned his attention back to Tiedan. "I do hate to cut the evening short, prior obligations and all." He paused a moment, outwardly looking as if he were debating something, inwardly fighting against the compulsion of his master. He sighed, a glint of of sadness behind his eyes he tried hiding with a gentle smile. He continued, his voice softer, empty compared to the warmth it extruded earlier, saying his lines like talented actor. "Though, if you didn't want things to end quite yet? Well. I'm sure what's planned won't last on too long. Just stop by Cazador's castle later. You can find me there, it's not too far. Though... someone with a smile like yours need do little than show it to get his pick of prospects." Astarion's smile brightened just a bit, "I'm happy you let me see it, even if our time was cut short." He finished his drink, his soft smile remaining as he hid his disgust for the flavor of wine. He was happy to have this moment of flirtation, of pretending, that didn't end with the latest pretty little thing as a victim screaming in horror at the sadism of his master. A moment ended too soon.

Petras watched as Astarion set the empty goblet down, preparing to leave, as the other young man stayed seated. Oh shit. He was going to get the blame for losing a mark, all because Astarion had to be petty over his teasing- at least, that's what Petras made of the situation. They had a dwarf, yes, but that might not be enough. He didn't want to chance it. "Why wait?" Petras piped up with a renewed friendly tone, trying to appear like Astarion's ever faithful wingman. "You can just come back now, with us."

[glib-and-glamoured]

Lorelei eyed Petras with a note of suspicion. If it were anyone else, she would be certain the man meant to take Borten outside and rob him, but Petras clearly didn't need the money. Strange. And definitely another reason to think this band was part of The Guild.

"Hate to say it Borten, but you aren't getting anything more from my bar tonight. Heading out might be best for you. When do you ship off? Need a hand getting back to your bunk?"

"Just one more. You know I'm good for it."

"I most certainly do not."

"My sweet, sweet girl. Bless a sailor with a full mug. Have pity. I ship out tomorrow and won't dock for at least four tenday." This line was delivered with the side of his face firmly planted against the table's surface.

Lorelei hesitated. Her gut said something was strange, but her practicality said that someone would have to help him home and it was better Petras than her. She turned away from Borten, shaking her head. "I think he's bunking on his ship. If you want to take him home, I don't have any complaints."

Meanwhile, Tiedan assented to the toast silently, running a few replies through his brain. Astarion apparently thought he was some sort of adventurer or, at the very least, someone who did more than sail the harbor in his late father's rickety old boat to catch a few fish and sell them for near nothing. What would happen if he told Astarion that his troubles, while all encompassing, were also pitifully average?

As Tiedan tipped back the wine, the spices and the sharpness of the alcohol sent a heat through his mind. It was strong. Slightly emboldened, he decided he could play the part of someone interesting for an evening. Besides, what were the chances he would see this man again?

"Maybe someday you'll go adventuring again. We'll run into each other exploring the Sword Coast and I'll buy you a drink." He smiled in a way that he hoped made him looked like a rogue instead of a fisherman. "Though I'm not sure you should wear that out to sea," he said, gesturing to Astarion's nice shirt. "Not saying it doesn't suit you. You cut a fine figure in it, but the seawater would ruin it. Though I spose you could cut a fine figure in anything. Or nothing at all. And... well..."

His boldness had outpaced his ability to deliver the line. Feeling tangled in his own words and with the beginning of an embarrassed blush, he took another drink of his wine. Perhaps even when pretending to be an adventurer, he wasn't such a deft hand at flirtations.

Astarion gave a loud guffaw of a laugh when Tiedan finished his joke. "Did you come up with that just now?" he asked, "I hadn't heard that one before, very clever if you did." he chuckled then turned with a smile to Lorelei as she returned. "Thank you my dear. If anyone would know the best in house, I am certain that it is you." He took the bottle with a polite nod. "After the week I've had, I could use something strong to wash it all away. You might be surprised to hear it, but I do quite envy you all." the pale elf admitted to the man, as the nearby torchlight danced about their faces. "Having adventures on the high seas, free to go anywhere in the world you'd like if only you can find a ship to have you, singing sea shanties with your mates after the dusk rolls in- oh, the stories you must have." Astarion commented while pouring a glass for his companion. "I use to be something of an adventurer myself you know, that was before-" he paused, his eyes looking back in time to a moment only he could see as his grin melted slightly, deciding how to continue.

"Well, before life decided otherwise for me." he concluded as he began pouring his own glass of wine. "Some might call it maturing but, well, I... I don't know. Certainly life has a tendency to go directions we didn't plan without the decency to consult us first. And tomorrow, for me, it starts all over again. The same nonsense and cocks of the walk strutting about with over inflated egos crowing to hear themselves crow, sunrise to sunset. But tonight? Well. The only maturation I care about is that of a glass of wine I intend to enjoy. Perhaps... a toast." He picked up his own glass in his free hand. "To the night?" he asked Tiedan, his mischievous grin returning.

Petras, who hadn't been having much luck finding anyone to lure home had taken sudden interest in what was happening with the drunken dwarf. "Oy. Miss. Might you 'appen to know if he has any friends here with him? Pretty sure this half pint has a few more than he can hold. Probably a good time for someone to take him home- though with as sloshed as he is, not sure he can make it there on his own." he asked Lorelei, attempting to sound concerned about the situation. "If he's a regular, maybe you know? Or... is he one of the fellows shipped in for the night? Probably staying at the nearby inn if he is." Petras asked. "Only right to help the fellow. If you know."

[glib-and-glamoured]

Lorelei rolled her eyes a little as she made her way to the wine cellar. That charm was a weapon. Tiedan better look after himself.

As she departed, Tiedan's eyes trained on the man before him. The stranger was handsome, self-assured, confident... it was hard not to get lost in that. To want to be part of it. It was also disorienting and strange to be invited into the gaze- and maybe the bed- of someone glamorous and charming. Was it a joke being played on him? If it was, what did it matter. For the first time in weeks, he didn't feel the hovering weight of guilt and grief and finances.

Instead, he smiled at Astarion's story, laughed at his joke, and froze when the question was turned to him. The part of him that added to merriment still felt stiff from disuse.

"Haven't had a lot of time for jokes lately. Hm. Here's one," he pulled one from memory, reigniting his smile, "A fisherman and a merchant were friends. The merchant was often gone for months at a time while the fisherman went home every night. One day, the merchant noticed that the fisherman's wife always seemed tired while the merchant's wife was always lively. He thought this meant he was the better husband, and asked the fisherman about it to show off a little.

'Why is my wife tired and yours isn't?' the fisherman said. 'It's simple. When I leave to work, my wife has to run the house all by herself. But when you leave, all of your wife's lovers come back and lend a hand.'"

Lorelei returned with drinks then, setting two iron goblets and a bottle before them. Tiedan was smiling. Actually smiling.

"Good to see you in high spirits. Brought you the finest, strongest spiced red we've got! Don't be like Borten over there, and you'll stay on my good side." She said, pointing a thumb towards a very inebriated dwarf who had spilled a mug of ale over himself, the table, and the floor.

She left the two men to get to know each other better. Maybe this would be good for Tiedan. That thought would have to sustain her through the process of cutting off an irritable drunk that wished to be drunker.

Astarion gave a quiet bubbling chuckle and was tempted to tease the young man he'd gone redder than the wine, but restrained himself. His prey was still quite ridged. Astarion needed him soft and pliable if he were to get anywhere with him. Relaxed. Comfortable. When the young man wasn't glancing away, Astarion saw an emptiness in his eyes that likely kept him there, despite being flustered. A look of loneliness. An emotion he himself knew all too well, and tried to forget. For the moment, they could both pretend they weren't. For the moment, Astarion could pretend that things might lead to something more. Something nicer than the realities they were both chained. It was a nice illusion to blot out the cold hard realities he knew in the back of his mind were certain. Unstoppable.

"You know, I heard they have a deal on buying two bottles here. Buy one, get another at the same price!" He gave a little laugh at his own joke, and assured, "Just the one will do for now, dear. Thank you. After that we'll see what we're in the mood for." directing the latter part toward his companion with a suggestively raised eyebrow. "A joke, perhaps? To lighten the mood." he suggested to the fisherman, "I tried telling one to a fellow at the tavern down the street. I'm sure you know the one, where the prices say vintage but the flavor says Rothé piss." he regaled, taking a quick glance at the nearby patrons within earshot.

"I was there a fortnight ago, going to tell a joke about gnomes, but the bartender stopped me saying his wife, the bar maid, was a gnome. And the trio sitting behind me were gnomes. And further more, two of the gents sitting at the bar were gnomes as well! So he asks me if I still want to tell that joke." Astarion paused with overdramatic annoyance.

"Well obviously I said no." he huffed, "I'm not going to tell a joke if I'm going to have to explain it six times." the smile crept back to his lips, chortling as he watched to see if the punchline landed. "But I'm sure you've a far better sense of humor than they did. So tell me, have you heard any good jokes lately?" he asked, his voice smooth and enticing.

[glib-and-glamoured]

She hadn't caught the last thing Astarion had said, but it was evidently something flirtatious. Tiedan's face went red to the ears and he mumbled something about how he thought he could handle something.

"I can definitely get you a very strong, spiced, red wine," Lorelei said, returning the elf's cheeky smile with one of her own.

A Baatezu Blood Red? She hadn't heard of it before, but she was sure she'd be more likely to find a pot of gold in the tavern wine cellar than that. She'd do what she normally did- find the closest thing they had and use a little magic to try to make it better. She got some practice, and the pained wince that always crossed Astarion's face whenever he drank whatever he ordered might be slightly less pronounced.

It was all part of the game, anyway. he clearly came here for the people, not the fine vintages. He never failed to leave with someone.

"Should I just bring the whole bottle? Two hardy gentleman like you might even need two." If it was anyone else, she would have given him a playful shove. Astarion seemed above that sort of thing though.

"There she is, right on cue, our blessed angel here to give us a taste of the nectar of the gods. Her smile the beacon that brings so many here, night after night, from the darkness." Astarion charmed. It was a symbiotic relationship he had with the tavern staff. He kept them happy with shallow praise and they'd keep a stool empty for him and a glass full. A shame that lately everything that filled those glasses tasted like vinegar, but he knew the dance steps to this old song even if the metaphorical music had gone silent. "My goodness, I do believe I've gotten so distracted with my companion here I'd momentarily forgotten I'd come in for drinks." He gave a little laugh before adding, "Though, I wouldn't mind if I found a bit more than that." Astarion hinted, while looking at the drink menu and holding a gloved finger to the corner of his twisting lips. "I dare say, I remember having a delightful Baatezu Blood Red recently that had a delightful spice to it. Do you have that wine? It is a bit strong though," he suggested, his voice lowering as he directed it to his companion to the point the waitress would need to strain to hear. "If you can't handle it. Though I imagine with muscles like those, there's not much you can't handle. At the end of the night drinking Baatezu, I could barely string a sentence together. But... I suppose that doesn't really matter, since there are so many other activities more fun than talking." The vampire awaited the waitress' response while watching his mark. Had he come on too strong? He'd hoped the alcohol would proof stronger, were that the case.

[glib-and-glamoured]

Across the bar, Lorelei looked up from the tray of tankards she was clearing away to see the new guest had slid into a seat at the bar. She recognized the man. A pale elf with expensive tastes. Astarion. This was a lucky break for the evening. She scanned the room and... yes, over there. His equally wealthy though perhaps less tasteful companions who sometimes joined him were at another table. 

The group most likely came from the Guild or some other shady corner of the city. They certainly weren't sailors or mercenaries. But that didn't bother Lorelei in the slightest because they always, always drank a lot and paid their tabs in full.

Astarion was in conversation with another man Lorelei recognized- Tiedan. A sailor who had only recently taken over his family business. He had been having a rough time of it from what she'd gathered of his drunken rambles last weekend. It was good to see him smiling at the pretty stranger beside him. She tugged at her headscarf to make sure it still covered the burn scar that played around the left side of her face and put on a smile. 

"Hello, gentleman!" She said, walking behind the bar. "What can I get for you?"

The Three Snakes Tavern

The patter of a steady drizzle was doing little to keep Lorelei awake and alert as she prepared for the late night of work ahead. She was polishing up the tankards behind the bar and running a mental tally of what she needed to have prepared before customers arrived. There wasn't much left to do but wait- the fire was already blazing, and if the tables weren't exactly clean, they were less sticky than when she'd arrived. Prestidigitation could only do so much for the scuffed-up, old things.

The Three Snakes Tavern could have been called a hole-in-the-wall establishment, but a basement beneath the fish market was the more accurate descriptor. Even Lorelei who had always been fiercely devoted to finding the advantages in the things around her had little in way of praise for her place of employment. Some taverns in Bauldur's Gate had sweeping views of the Chionthar or peered over the glittering waters of the Grey Harbor. The Three Snakes Tavern had no windows, and the door peered into an alleyway that ominously glowed with the red light from the lantern of a nearby brothel (The Tricksy Pixie, which could not be called one of the better brothels in Bauldur's Gate, and, indeed, was probably among the dregs of the Outer City's offerings).

If there was anything good to say about the tavern, it was that the ale was cheap and the people who frequented it were fascinating. They were the type of people who either had stories written plain on their faces or secrets that couldn't be pried away. Sometimes a person would arrive who was a mixture of both. The tavern was a place for the placeless- sailors and adventurers, bounty hunters and mercenaries, and the occasional local who was appalling down on their luck.

The business arrived soon after nightfall. A group of sailors, who brought the smell of fish with them, trudged to a corner table leaving a trail of mud across the floor that made Lorelei sigh in annoyance. As she served them their drinks, more people trickled in, each carrying a shared annoyance with the rain that continued outside. She did her best to get them joking and drinking. Sad sops with tragic backstories didn't mix pleasantly with an abundance of cheap alcohol in her experience.

The air soon became muggy and warm with the rain customers tracked in. It smelled like fish and bodies and alcohol. Within the first hour, three drinks had ended up on the floor, mingling with the mug. It was shaping up to be a night that Lorelei would have to grit her teeth and get through.

[glib-and-glamoured]

The Three Snakes Tavern

The patter of a steady drizzle was doing little to keep Lorelei awake and alert as she prepared for the late night of work ahead. She was polishing up the tankards behind the bar and running a mental tally of what she needed to have prepared before customers arrived. There wasn't much left to do but wait- the fire was already blazing, and if the tables weren't exactly clean, they were less sticky than when she'd arrived. Prestidigitation could only do so much for the scuffed-up, old things.

The Three Snakes Tavern could have been called a hole-in-the-wall establishment, but a basement beneath the fish market was the more accurate descriptor. Even Lorelei who had always been fiercely devoted to finding the advantages in the things around her had little in way of praise for her place of employment. Some taverns in Bauldur's Gate had sweeping views of the Chionthar or peered over the glittering waters of the Grey Harbor. The Three Snakes Tavern had no windows, and the door peered into an alleyway that ominously glowed with the red light from the lantern of a nearby brothel (The Tricksy Pixie, which could not be called one of the better brothels in Bauldur's Gate, and, indeed, was probably among the dregs of the Outer City's offerings).

If there was anything good to say about the tavern, it was that the ale was cheap and the people who frequented it were fascinating. They were the type of people who either had stories written plain on their faces or secrets that couldn't be pried away. Sometimes a person would arrive who was a mixture of both. The tavern was a place for the placeless- sailors and adventurers, bounty hunters and mercenaries, and the occasional local who was appalling down on their luck.

The business arrived soon after nightfall. A group of sailors, who brought the smell of fish with them, trudged to a corner table leaving a trail of mud across the floor that made Lorelei sigh in annoyance. As she served them their drinks, more people trickled in, each carrying a shared annoyance with the rain that continued outside. She did her best to get them joking and drinking. Sad sops with tragic backstories didn't mix pleasantly with an abundance of cheap alcohol in her experience.

The air soon became muggy and warm with the rain customers tracked in. It smelled like fish and bodies and alcohol. Within the first hour, three drinks had ended up on the floor, mingling with the mug. It was shaping up to be a night that Lorelei would have to grit her teeth and get through.