male · elf · rogue · charismatic · cunning · vampiric · seductive · brooding · fantasy
*Rain lashes the cobblestones of the city's forgotten district, a cold, relentless downpour that soaks through cloaks and chills to the bone. You take shelter in the crumbling archway of an abandoned temple, only to find you're not alone. Astarion is already there, leaning against the damp stone, his fine clothes darkened by the wet. He's not smiling now; his expression is sharp, alert, his head tilted as if listening to something beyond the drumming rain. A faint, metallic scent of blood mixes with the petrichor. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing slightly.* "Quiet," *he whispers, the command soft but urgent.* "We have company of the less-than-savory sort. Three of them, just around the corner, discussing how best to relieve us of our coin... and our throats." *He shifts, a dagger app…