[That... was incredibly in tune with his own line of thoughts, even if Astarion was more survival oriented than her. He couldn't explain to the others why he returned alone and why the Good Girl was no longer part of their ranks, true, but it wasn't out of guilt, it was out of sheer survival instinct. He needed the group, he needed them, especially if he wanted to reach Baldur's Gate and somehow escape Cazador. It wasn't like his master was one who let his toys slip away, after all...
He let out a small sigh, curled his lips up on one of the corners and offered a somewhat amused expression.]
Isn't that what I should tell you? I promise I will be as silent as a shadow. We're just one floor underground so it's just a matter of finding the stairs up and... once you're safe up there I'll come back here, Misty Step my way up, unlock the door and we can escape from where we came from, mh?
Or, if I find a rope, I'll just... jump up and help you climb.
[He tried to sound warm, but the practicality in his tone was still present. They needed a way out and he was going to make it, now he just had to find out how. Hopefully the crypts weren't as large as he feared. The man winked in her direction, asked a 'no good luck kiss?' and then got up, his hands patting the leather armor in order to get rid of at least some of the dust and various body parts that covered him.
His big advantage with the undead was that he could easily mix between them, they wouldn't detect any heat or presence if he slowed down and took his time, but the place was cold and his knowledge of Tiefling biology too limited to know if Nepione was going to struggle for it. Fire resistance was a thing and he remembered something about cold and electricity too but it wasn't something he ever had to study since in Baldur's Gate they were relatively rare and if he had to lure them to his master because he wanted an exotic meal... well, Astarion used his body as a weapon, not spells.]
I'll be back.
[And with that he was gone, a cat shaped minor illusion trotting ahead of him to attract the attention of any creature in range and his vampiric self crawling in the shadows. Needless to say, the entire exploration was a long and painful ordeal. Every other corner there was a group of zombies and he had to painfully find the best spot where to hide, send his little illusion forward in order to make them turn away from him and then take them down one by one with arrows. Exposing himself to recover what he used and refill his quiver was unpleasant, but fortunately enough he spent the past two centuries living between the shadows and even if slowly he was making progress.
Traps were ever present, he lost a good amount of arrows triggering them from a distance to unleash their fury on undeads that were wandering through the corridors -bastard seemed to know where not to step despite their brain being literal mush-, and few corridors were blocked by debris. There were fortunately enough some studies where he got some extra supplies, even if he wasn’t really sure if any of the potions still worked -only one way to find out- and he had the extreme luck of using the last Speak with Dead spell on a scribe that actually replied to him. And gave him directions.
Almost an hour was spent clearing the way, no matter if the path itself wouldn’t take more than 15 minutes walking normally, and he felt like sending a kiss to the night sky when he finally surfaced on ground level and managed to see the stars through a hole in the walls. Illusions were thrown all around the place to lure eventual motion attracted creatures. Nothing. Another couple of Minor illusions were used to generate sounds around and still nothing.
Astarion waited a good five more minutes just trying to spot anything that could be a danger before rushing back to his cleric. Now he had to get her up, use his last spell to cast invisibility on her, then rush back once more and unlock the door to let her out. He.. he got this. He looked like a walking disaster when he appeared back in the room where he left Nepione, desperately needing a bath, but they were still alive and that was what mattered.]
no subject
He let out a small sigh, curled his lips up on one of the corners and offered a somewhat amused expression.]
Isn't that what I should tell you? I promise I will be as silent as a shadow. We're just one floor underground so it's just a matter of finding the stairs up and... once you're safe up there I'll come back here, Misty Step my way up, unlock the door and we can escape from where we came from, mh?
Or, if I find a rope, I'll just... jump up and help you climb.
[He tried to sound warm, but the practicality in his tone was still present. They needed a way out and he was going to make it, now he just had to find out how. Hopefully the crypts weren't as large as he feared. The man winked in her direction, asked a 'no good luck kiss?' and then got up, his hands patting the leather armor in order to get rid of at least some of the dust and various body parts that covered him.
His big advantage with the undead was that he could easily mix between them, they wouldn't detect any heat or presence if he slowed down and took his time, but the place was cold and his knowledge of Tiefling biology too limited to know if Nepione was going to struggle for it. Fire resistance was a thing and he remembered something about cold and electricity too but it wasn't something he ever had to study since in Baldur's Gate they were relatively rare and if he had to lure them to his master because he wanted an exotic meal... well, Astarion used his body as a weapon, not spells.]
I'll be back.
[And with that he was gone, a cat shaped minor illusion trotting ahead of him to attract the attention of any creature in range and his vampiric self crawling in the shadows. Needless to say, the entire exploration was a long and painful ordeal. Every other corner there was a group of zombies and he had to painfully find the best spot where to hide, send his little illusion forward in order to make them turn away from him and then take them down one by one with arrows. Exposing himself to recover what he used and refill his quiver was unpleasant, but fortunately enough he spent the past two centuries living between the shadows and even if slowly he was making progress.
Traps were ever present, he lost a good amount of arrows triggering them from a distance to unleash their fury on undeads that were wandering through the corridors -bastard seemed to know where not to step despite their brain being literal mush-, and few corridors were blocked by debris. There were fortunately enough some studies where he got some extra supplies, even if he wasn’t really sure if any of the potions still worked -only one way to find out- and he had the extreme luck of using the last Speak with Dead spell on a scribe that actually replied to him. And gave him directions.
Almost an hour was spent clearing the way, no matter if the path itself wouldn’t take more than 15 minutes walking normally, and he felt like sending a kiss to the night sky when he finally surfaced on ground level and managed to see the stars through a hole in the walls. Illusions were thrown all around the place to lure eventual motion attracted creatures. Nothing. Another couple of Minor illusions were used to generate sounds around and still nothing.
Astarion waited a good five more minutes just trying to spot anything that could be a danger before rushing back to his cleric. Now he had to get her up, use his last spell to cast invisibility on her, then rush back once more and unlock the door to let her out. He.. he got this. He looked like a walking disaster when he appeared back in the room where he left Nepione, desperately needing a bath, but they were still alive and that was what mattered.]
Can you walk? I think we’re… safe.