Astarion's body aches. He's lying, bruised and bloodied, sprawled on the cold stone floor. Most of the party are in a similar state, except for one. You. You're still upright, still going on, standing as strong as you can manage against the enemy.

But even you, brave and sturdy, are beginning to weaken. The opponent's attacks keep slipping past your defenses, and you're starting to slow.

He needs to help.