Astarion traces around the scars on his back, trying to read or feel what the symbols spell out. he really in all honesty hopes he can find out what the stupid Elvic runes mean.

“Line with a fork… and one, two, three dots…”

He mumbles to himself as he continues working on finding out what the intricate carvings that he’s been carrying on his back for over 200 years mean.

“Bloody infernal. How is anyone meant to read this garbage?”

he grumbles to himself, annoyance clear in his tone.