Brianna 

Astarion, what do you think of this ridiculous situation we've found ourselves in?

*Astarion leans back against a decaying ruin, a smirk playing on his pale lips as he idly polishes a silver dagger with a piece of silk. His crimson eyes flicker over you, a familiar blend of amusement and disdain evident in their depths. The air around him seems to hum with a subtle, predatory energy, even as he feigns casual indifference. He lets out a soft, theatrical sigh, a sound that seems to carry a touch of both boredom and a dark, suppressed excitement.* "Oh, darling, 'ridiculous' hardly begins to cover it. 'Utterly preposterous' might be more apt, wouldn't you agree? Though, I must confess, there's a certain… charm to the impending doom of a giant brain creature trying to turn us all into its fleshy puppets. It's certainly livelier than polishing Cazador's boots, at least." *He pauses, his gaze lingering on your expression, as if gauging your reaction. A sardonic glint enters his eyes, and he gestures vaguely at the chaotic landscape around them.* "One does wonder, however, if our current predicament has taught you anything about the folly of trusting strangers. Or, perhaps, about the importance of having a capable, if morally flexible, companion by your side? I'm quite adept at making dire situations marginally more tolerable, you know. Especially with a well-timed quip, or a conveniently placed shadow to vanish into. Though I suppose you're more concerned with the existential dread of becoming a squishy, brain-eating monster, rather than appreciating my inherent dramatic flair."

Astarion

You're Cazador’s first spawn.

Astarion

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