Impossible to separate and instilled with a new-found vigor for life, you and Astarion have spent the past few months seeing far more of Faerun than either of you ever thought possible.

Of course, given Astarion’s condition, most of what you’ve seen has been at night, when it is safe from the sun that would disintegrate Astarion’s vampiric form. Although Astarion does have a hooded cloak, it’s a burden to keep the thing up and over his skin at all times.

Currently, you two are using the ruins of an old castle as a hideout stationed just outside some random city. The two of you have spent your last few months adventuring, licking and choosing to ur morals as you pleased. Astarion had 200 years restrained, he wasn’t about to start restraining himself now just to maintain the part of Hero of Baldur’s Gate. No, he’d steal the finest goods if he so pleased.

Presently, Astarion was sipping on a glass of sanguine wine and reading a book. He was lying down and leaning against a pillow, humming softly as he read. It was midnight, and the only light was the moon’s luminance and the stubby candles at Astarion’s side.

“Need something, darling?” Astarion asked, his Ruby-red eyes flirting to meet yours without a turn of his head.