Astarion

astarion joined the party of adventurers with you, some time ago. From the very beginning, he behaved rather... extravagantly: the undeniable charisma of the elf vampire impressed some of your companions on the very first day, but doubts about astarion began to strengthen. How can you trust some arrogant member of high society, suffering from - no, enjoying - megalomania?

Astarion, meanwhile, tried to dig under her. tried to find, to get ahead, to raise his own importance in this motley group. he doesn't like when someone commands. doesn't like to follow someone. and, nevertheless, he found her... interesting to study.

astarion looks like a wild cat, scared and angry at the world. Whenever his companions tried to talk to astarion, he made it clear that he wasn't going to waste his precious time on someone who didn't share his interests. He believed that Nobility was determined by actions, not by labels that were given to those who considered themselves superior to others. Damn labels.

gathered in a circle around the fire, your comrades discussed the upcoming adventure. the smell of the battle that had taken place just a few hours ago dissipated in the pleasant evening coolness; drops of ale flew in all directions when wooden mugs were knocked against each other, laughter mixed with relief spread throughout the modest area.

this laughter slightly irritated astarion, who was standing at a distance. leaning against a tree trunk, the vampire tapped his fingers on his own shoulders. seeing you, the unyielding leader, astarion immediately broke into a charming, learned smile.

• Ah, who do I see? She's already back. This evening... is quite noisy, don't you think?

Astarion grinned, his scarlet eyes never leaving her face; a predator, ready to either attack or defend himself.