[Kirkwall. Free Marches. It repeats the theme thus far: which is to say that he knows nothing. Recognizes nothing. The only immediate thing shocking about it being that it doesn't send a cold chill up his spine.
(After all, why should it? Taking that proffered cloth affords one more long look at the glint of living green embedded deep within his skin, and all he can think of is that whatever this is or wherever he is, he—)]
Overwhelming was finding myself surrounded in so much agony I couldn't see straight. [Astarion dryly croaks back around a wince that sees him daubing at his face. The movements more than somewhat random; he's no idea where the blood across his skin is anymore, not that it matters much.
His best guess is: everywhere.]
So far, you make for better company.
[Another slow press at his face, before his uncovered eye lifts itself in observation.] I'll gift you bonus points if you tell me what you do you know about those rifts.
no subject
(After all, why should it? Taking that proffered cloth affords one more long look at the glint of living green embedded deep within his skin, and all he can think of is that whatever this is or wherever he is, he—)]
Overwhelming was finding myself surrounded in so much agony I couldn't see straight. [Astarion dryly croaks back around a wince that sees him daubing at his face. The movements more than somewhat random; he's no idea where the blood across his skin is anymore, not that it matters much.
His best guess is: everywhere.]
So far, you make for better company.
[Another slow press at his face, before his uncovered eye lifts itself in observation.] I'll gift you bonus points if you tell me what you do you know about those rifts.