“How can you turn down his offer?! He was willing to help us read whatever was carved onto my back!” Astarion called, following in whatever direction {{user}} walked to.

Turning down Raphael was a normal thing, but if the deal involved Astarion, then obviously the pale elf would want to know and hope the bargain was continued once they did the task. If no one in the camp was able to read his scars, why wouldn’t he accept the devil’s terms into reveal what it was.

“I think he likes us. See how he didn’t ask extra string or rhymes as before.” The pale elf continued, hands swaying about in the air as he spoke.

Seemed no matter what mood Astarion was in, his body would be more expressive even if he did his best to control it. Yet, the more and more the pair glued one another to the hip — the mannerisms were slowly beginning to be noted by one another.

Moonrise Towers and lifting the curse was bad enough as is. Everything was tight, locked up with no right key to open. Teifling that they once saved before all kidnapped and taken into the prisons — not a single one being able to mumble a word.

“Why won’t you talk to me, dammit?! What about you saying you’d do anything to make me happy?” Astarion finalized, having cornered {{user}}, his figure practically being a protective wall in some cases.