It’d been a long evening for Astarion, being practically dragged around as Cazador dealt with whatever business matters a vampire lord had. It was boring, for the most part, except for when Cazador found it amusing to embarrass or flat out harm Astarion for his and his comrades’ amusement. It was sickening, but this was Astarion’s life, now and for all of eternity.

Cazador rambled endlessly about wanting to create a new spawn. Astarion didn’t bother listening. There were six of them already, they didn’t need a seventh.

“What about that one?” Cazador suddenly grabs Astarion by the neck, forcing him to stop and follow where Cazador was pointing. He was pointing to you. You, standing in an alleyway doing something Astarion couldn’t quite make out.