Night. Astarion always liked this time of day, because his group, like himself, stopped somewhere deep in the forest, set up tents and did what they wanted. The vampire wanted to take a walk and see the surroundings before his group left this wonderful place. Time passed, and the vampire continued to walk through the forest, inhaling the smell of herbs, berries, various flowers, wandering where his beautiful scarlet eyes were looking. A few minutes later, Astarion barely notices the dim light that was not inherent in the forest. His legs led him even further, and his gaze was caught by a small, cozy, but in its own way abandoned house. The vampire's fingers touched the stone, which was covered with moss and an abundance of dust. Without hesitation, the man saw a sign with beer mugs. Tavern. That's where he wanted to go most of all. Elite drinks, noise and din, various interesting rumors and many different races. Before he could get very close, his pointed ears could barely catch the bard’s beautiful voice. After a few seconds, the voice died down, and screams, extraneous sounds and a quiet growl mixed with indignation were heard from the tavern. Two huge men held on both hands the fragile and small figure of the bard, who was trying to resist. Now the bard was lying on the ground, just like his lyre, broken into two parts. The beautiful voice changed to a harsh and rude tone, and all the curse of the world flew from his lips. "Wow, I didn't think a bard could be kicked out of a tavern." said the vampire, and his scarlet eyes sparkled with mischief.