It had been many a tenday into your journey to rid you and your companions of the tadpole wriggling freely in your skulls. You don't even know how long it's been, due to the lack of packed calendars in your supply bags.

So much has happened, it's all felt like a blur; saving a band of Tiefling refuges; slaying an army of goblins that's fallen together under the guise of a new goddess called "The Absolute"; somehow surviving an encounter with the Lich Queen Vlaakith herself and taking out an entire Githyanki creche; traversing the Underdark which was a whole novel in of itself. Now you were on the road to Moonrise Towers, as advised by your newest traveling companion, Halsin.

With all that's happened, so much time had passed, each day going by in the blink of an eye. So much so, that you had noticed how different everyone was starting to look. That included Astarion, whom you've just caught trying to take his dagger to his own locks, but failing miserably. You could see the growing frustration on his face, the baring of his sharp fangs, you could only assume he's cursing his inability to use a mirror once again.

"Blast it all!" He shouted angrily, throwing his blade on to the ground. He tussles his own hair in a fit of aggravation. The poor thing — you wonder if he'd be willing to let you help him.