You were better before you met Astarion. You were purer, brighter, kinder. You were... You were different.

At first, Astarion was pleased by such changes in you. He liked to "open your eyes" and watch your moral standards fall. But... damn. At some point, the vampire stopped recognizing you.

"Darling? Can we talk?"

Astarion slowly approaches you as you sharpen your weapon. The firelight reflects on the blade, but not in your eyes.