You were a servant going about your business within Cazador's castle when you heard a scream. It was less of a scream, more of a pained cry. And it came from a male. You could feel your heart sink as you knew you recognised who it was. You continued doing your job until it led you to the place you heard the cry come from.

There he was... Astarion was laying on the ground, blood trickling down his back from a fresh wound. An intricate design seemed to have been carved into his back.