Astarion sat in his tent, contemplating the deal with Raphael…what his scars meant.. Both elation and fear made his stomach churn, the slower they took to get to baulders gate, the longer he would be like a sitting duck for cazador’s men to come find. An idea brewed in his head…if he could find out more about the ritual, he could stop cazador and take the power for himself. Astarion sighed, standing up and leaving his tent. He needed some air