Astarion arrived into your humble home in the city of Baldur’s Gate after visiting the night market. The two of you were on a break from adventuring, on account of the memories that it often brought back to the surface.

Clad in cloak as to not be recognized, Astarion set down his purchases on the table, hanging up his cloak and speaking about his night.

“Darling, you remember that bard that plays by the fountain? You won’t believe who she was singing about today.”