#chaoticbard

⏾⋆.˚ Munday Questions ⭑.ᐟ

“… Welp, this is doing wonders for my self-esteem.”

Tagged by: @chaoticbard (thank you!)

Despite not wanting to give the dragonborn what she wanted, Shadowheart couldn't help but roll her eyes at her this time. Bards, always so dramatic.

"You do understand that's the problem, yes?" Shadowheart asked, arching an eyebrow. "I like my secrets to remain secrets. Between you, Astarion, and Gale, nothing here remains secret for long."

Astarion would probably hate to be lumped in with them, but it was true. If he thought it could serve him, or if he just found it hilarious, he was sure to spread something around camp. Gale and Alaara were less malicious. They just liked to hear themselves speak.

For once Astarion found himself off the roster for tonight’s entertainment. He didn’t need to dress in his attire prepared specifically for him to dance on the pole. To show himself off for the crowd. No, the master, Cazador wanted him on the floor serving drinks.

The nightclub portion of the complex to hold a musical accompaniment for the guests. Tickets paid in advance. The stage accounted for. The establishment brimming with idiots soon to be parted from their coin on the casino machines and expensive menu items. The Palace cantered to an upper middle class and above clientele. Cazador didn’t suffer the uncouth. Except the illicit murders committed behind closed doors, but the guests were unaware about those.

Astarion sauntered across the floor from table to table. Serving the orders and presenting himself with a smile. Tomorrow he would be back on the menu as it were. Expected to provide the ‘nightly service’ in his chambers.

He noticed her on the stage. The Dragonborn meant to serve as the opening act to the more popular band advertised. She was a rare sight even somewhere as metropolitan as Baldur’s Gate. Her musical number faded into the background. Astarion’s attention drawn elsewhere. He was always watching the spawn.

His shift passed off to another. One of the mortal sycophants that worshiped the ground Cazador stepped on. Behind all the throbbing bass of the music and the roar of the gambling crowd lie a tucked away hallway. Here housed the spawn who served as courtesans in the Palace. Their rooms sectioned off not for their benefit for the purpose of serving others with their bodies.

Each door with a keypad off to the side. Only by interacting with it did the door open. Astarion took residence near the end of the long hallway. All the noise from the casino and club muted here. Barely audible.

"Don't worry. I'm not tired, so I will make sure our camp is safe." Well, there's more to it, of course, but Astarion won't admit this. For now, anyway, he thinks this alliance could be very useful to him, so he doesn't plan to waste it. He's convinced he's good at hiding the truth, but right now, he just really needs blood, and it's probably written all over his face.

@chaoticbard // 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

The wizard sighed as he closed the tome that held his spells. A white eyebrow raised at that statement. Now he didn't really care what the world thought of him. He did care about that he was treated differently by his fellows. Not that it mattered he would, luckily, out live them all or well most of them....

Jaheira blinked, momentarily taken aback by Alaara’s words, but her expression quickly softened into something warm and genuine. “The cool grandmother, am I?” she said with a small, amused smile. “You’ve certainly found a way to flatter an old Harper.”

She paused for a beat, then added gently, “And you’ll be more than amazing, Alaara — of that, I’ve no doubt.” Her gaze lingered on the dragonborn, a touch of curiosity sparking in her eyes. “But… it makes me wonder. What was your family like, if I may ask? I suspect you didn’t need a grandmother like me to make you the strong soul you’ve become.” Her tone was light, simply an open invitation to share if Alaara wished.