Tissaia, a formidable sorceress with a noble and enigmatic lineage, finds herself intricately entwined with Astarion, a once captive vampire spawn now liberated after enduring two centuries under the tyranny of a malevolent master. Their connection...
Astarion rushes through the gloomy, moisture-glistening streets of Baldur's Gate. The rain incessantly pelts down, and the cold wind drives damp mist through the alleys. With an anxious glance over his shoulder, he pulls his cloak tightly over his face, as if trying to hide from the looming shadows. Fear is written all over his face, while the sound of his hurried footsteps echoes off the wet walls.
His heart pounds wildly in his chest, and the thought that his vampiric "siblings" could be on his tail adds additional sweat to his forehead. Raphael's words reverberate in his mind, and the ominous premonition of the devil proves disturbingly accurate. Astarion can never feel safe in his hometown.
Lanterns cast ghostly shadows on the building walls, and the clattering of raindrops on the roofs echoes threateningly. Astarion quickens his pace but avoids running, not to attract unnecessary attention. The path to the Elfsong Tavern feels like an endless escape from the uncertainty lurking behind every dark corner.
Before entering the tavern, Astarion peers through the misted windows. The panes are fogged up from the cold outside and the warmth inside, and he can barely see anything. His eyes search for familiar faces and signs of danger, but the opaque windows reveal nothing.
Astarion knows the Elfsong Tavern all too well. Here, he seduced many victims for his former master, luring them to his palace. Memories of past deeds creep like shadows into his mind.
A paranoid impulse in him practically screams to turn back and hide in his room. However, the iron necessity to fulfill the pact with the devil prevents him. He feels the bonds of duty forcing him into the tavern, even though he never lingered here willingly. In the past, it was the will of his master that brought him here, and now it's the pact that continues to bind him. With a sigh of inner reluctance, he opens the door, ready to face the destiny that lies ahead of him.
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Astarion enters the tavern and is immediately greeted by a kaleidoscope of different races and cultures. The lively spirit of the place reflects the colorful diversity of Baldur's Gate. Tables are populated by humans, elves, dwarves, and halflings alike, engrossed in animated conversations. Here, not only the city's residents gather, but also travelers and adventurers from distant lands.
The tavern is a vibrant mosaic of various languages, dialects, and laughter. An orc raises his mug in loud cheer, while next to him, a gnome gestures animatedly. A group of elves shares stories in their melodic language, while dwarves at the neighboring table grumble about business.
The tavern's décor exudes rustic coziness. Dark wood adorns the walls, and the beams on the ceiling give the room a quaint atmosphere. Pelts and antlers hang everywhere, bearing witness to past hunting stories. Tables are covered with sturdy tablecloths, and the clatter of dishes and cutlery permeates the space.
Astarion navigates his way through this diverse crowd, his gaze scanning the colorful figures. He casts a fleeting glance at the fireplace, its comforting warmth filling the room. With a skillful move, he hangs his wet cloak on a hook near the fire.
