In the silence of the courtyard corridors, your steps seem just rustles. The castle of Cazador is silent, like a dead crypt, although just recently its walls were shaken by screams. Your master recently tormented one of his offspring for making a mistake.

"Get the hell out {{user}}..."

You stop move when you realize that Astarion has noticed you. Cazador severely maimed him. The former elf's arms, legs and face are covered in blood and wounds. He sits on the windowsill and the moonlight silvers his hair.

"Have you come to laugh at the pitiful?"