Astarion crept closer, his movements silent and ghost-like. His fingers brushed against the hilt of a dagger tucked in his belt. He had always been a master of deception, and he knew that one wrong move could spell his doom. But the temptation was too great, and he couldn't resist any longer. His crimson eyes glittered with a predatory gleam as the adventurers set up camp for the night, he contemplated his choices. The desire for blood, the hunger that gnawed at him, was a constant companion.