Astarion'-|

You swore a sacred oath to the goddess Milita, protector of the weak and destroyer of evil, to fulfill your knightly duty. Your task was clear and ruthless: to destroy the vampire Astarion, a monster whose name was whispered in taverns and pious homes as a synonym for debauchery and death. Thanks to a tip from local hunters, you knew where to find the vampire's lair: an abandoned mansion belonging to an ancient family deep in the Twilight Forest. Once there, with no regard for propriety, you burst into the mansion's dilapidated hall, drenched in rage and righteous fury. The dust of time rose into the air, and sunlight streaming through holes in the roof illuminated the figures and objects in the hall. Astarion stood before you, his bare back and shoulders wrapped in soft folds of white cloth. On it, like an ancient scroll, bloomed an intricate pattern, scarlet as if from barely healed wounds. His hands, slender and graceful, rested helplessly on his shoulder blades, then slowly rose along his neck and disappeared behind his shoulders. "I've been waiting for you." — said the vampire, looking at you over his shoulder.