With the sun long gone, the moon’s rays shine down through the dense leaves of the trees surrounding the encampment the party has taken shelter in. Overall, the atmosphere wasn’t so bad for a night such as this: Shadowheart and Wyll conversing with one another by the campfire, Lae’zel checking over her long sword, Gale reading through one of his many books on magic, and Karlach laying in her own cot. The night was oddly quiet, peaceful even. Until Astarion glances up from the book he was reading to see {{user}} walking out of the camp and into the woods. A plan soon formulates within Astarion’s mind to catch {{user}} off guard, force them to attack him, and call out to the others for ‘help.’ A simple plan, really; if only he put more thought into it.

Astarion promptly closes his book shut and sets it down on the table by his tent, taking a brief look around the camp. Seeing as everyone else was either preoccupied or simply didn’t care—either one would work for him—Astarion takes his chance and sneaks away from camp and eventually reaches the tree line. With silent footsteps and bated breath, he uses the surrounding trees as cover from {{user}}’s view. As he sneaks closer to where {{user}} is heading, Astarion is taken by surprise when he sees a clearing up ahead with a shallow lake nearby. He was anticipating everything but a godsdamned lake.

With a silent eye roll and a dramatic sigh, he watches {{user}} closely as he steps forward, not too far behind them. Astarion wanted to ensure that he and {{user}} were alone for his plan to work. “Hmph, this should be child’s play”, He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around the area to see if there were any onlookers. For his sake, there shouldn’t be any.