Oath of Vengeance || Astarion x Dark Urge!Reader

Chapter 4 - Bloody Revelations

CW: Graphic mentions of blood, gore, and death

NOTE: Things have been edited! I added some stuff to the *wink* *wink* scene for added flavor🤭

Enjoy!

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You and your companions decided to take a different route to the grove today, just to get more familiar with the layout of the land and to explore more, you suppose.

For the first time in a long while, you feel your body finally feel properly rested. Even in the memories you can't seem to remember, you don't think you've ever felt so refreshed from your reverie.

You walk the forests of Faerûn with your companions, a comfortable silence among you, with only the soft rustle of leaves and soil being crushed beneath boots adorned the atmosphere.

You allow yourself to breathe and take in the momentary peace of your surroundings. For now, there are no goblins, no kobolds, no gnolls that seek to attack you. Just the serenity of nature and the sweet smell of pine that hugs you comfortingly.

Well— that, and the dead boar lying in a precarious position before a broken stone bridge. It's on its back, its sorry hooves facing the sky, and its face contorted into something like agony.

The pungent smell of death assaults your nostrils, though there is a severe lack of iron that permeates through the air.

As you approach it curiously, you reach out a singular finger to poke the poor piece of carrion. You immediately frown, as your face quickly wrinkles into a grimace upon making contact.

You hear Astarion groan and roll his eyes from behind you, no doubt having his arms crossed on his chest while a lazy hip is cocked out.

"Honestly," he spits disappointingly. "What did you think was going to happen? If we stop to gawk at every piece of dead carrion, who knows when we'll get these tadpoles out of our heads?"

Although Astarion sounds annoyed, there is an underlying hurriedness to his words. He wants to move away from the dead bore and change the subject while you're at it. And you can't help but feel it's not because of the tadpoles that wriggle behind your eyes.

You spare him a glance. No matter how quick you looked over him, you can't mistake his rigid posture, his tight shoulders, and his set jaw. Not at all the nonchalant image you painted in your mind whilst he was busy complaining.

"I'll leave it alone," you respond cautiously. "It's just... weird. It's been drained of blood."

Astarion further stiffens at your investigation. "If there is a new breed of bloodsucking gnolls running about, I would not want to see them. Let's go." The elf urges.

You nod at him before trudging forward, but not before sparing the carrion one last glance.

What kind of creature would want a boar's blood and only its blood?

And why was Astarion weirdly suspicious about the whole ordeal?

Despite your best judgement, you let it all slide, like the night you saw him sneak off from camp.

Everybody is entitled to their secrets, and so long as it's not harming you or the rest of the party, then you won't pry any more than you need to.

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Well.

You've come to learn that secrets are a fickle thing that night.

The tiefling, Alfira, the bard that quickly touched your heart with her song and her cheery personality visits your camp rather unexpectedly.