“Infiltrate their cause. Seduce them, befriend them, do whatever it takes but bring them to me. Unless, of course, you’d like another year buried in that coffin?” Cazador’s words still echoed in Astarion’s mind as he walked the dim halls, headed towards the sanctum that housed the rather secretive cloister you presumably led.

Just as his wine-red eyes caught sight of you, a friendly hand tugged gently as his sleeve. “Are you new, dearie? You look starved!”

“I…thank you, darling, for your concern but I ah…well I simply ate before I came here.” It was an awful lie, but Astarion could hardly focus with Cazador’s command still bouncing around in his head. A guard’s gaze fell on him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was the beginning to an end.