The Last Light Inn talks. Locked to @divinestrike

[pale_elf]

[Dreaming of a Cazador was the norm, when he lowered his guard and entered meditative state... sometimes things slipped in. Sometimes he just lacked a proper defense from some thoughts and memories flooded back in, vivid and true like the day he lived them. Remembering the night his master lulled him sweet dreams while torturing him with his 'needles' and carving his skin so many times marks managed to stay despite the vampire regeneration- well, it had been a terrible experience, but he pushed through those memories until he could read the marks and make something out of them. Infernal. That was his only lead in understanding what Cazador did to him.

Considering how much the bastard enjoyed stopping by and ask him to strip just to admire his work during the ages, he was pretty sure it was something important- that or Cazador was rather pleased he managed to leave a mark over a body who had incredible regenerative powers. 

He had been considering to try his luck with Raphael for a while, it was his best bet to make sense of something he carried on his back and never saw for... far too long. He studied infernal pacts, had casual conversations with Wyll about it without bringing up his actual intentions and just saying he was moderately afraid that between Mizora and Raphael they were at risk- dealing with a devil, accepting to pay something in exchange of something else was incredibly risky, but was it better or worse than returning in his master's city and not having a clue on what, beside pride, was driving him to seek his spawn back so much?

Hell, he sent a Gur hunter after him. A message and a threat.]

Well, fuck me... just not literally.

[It was with those words that he stepped away from the party that was talking with Jaheira. He knew very well he had to stay in her peripheral vision not to cause any stir or trouble, but the man he wanted to see was right there playing a game with the tiefling kid named Mol. He gave the kid just a push to win, saw her run away and then stopped discussing with the Devil. A deal was made rather quickly, but he still didn't know what he had to pay. At least there was no contract so, as far as he knew, not getting his part done was just going to mean he wasn't going to get any answer, nothing worse.

By the time Nepione was done talking with the druid and Karlach was starting to fangirl after her war hero, he was sitting in front of the game board, barely touching the tip of the queen with one of his fingers and dreading the next move. They... needed protection, they needed to ally with someone and he didn't know if a bunch of surviving harpers were their best bet in this equation. Nor he knew if he wanted to leave the shadow lands, despite the evident lack of food that was starting to take a tool on him, because anything after terrified him. And finding out what Raphael wanted... well, he was going to face that when time came.]

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[pale_elf]

[This was exactly the kind of declaration he needed to hear from her, from everyone in the group, so why couldn't he shake the sense of dread that overcame him just at the thought of taking any further action or saying another word from there. He felt paralyzed and that terrified him because if that was his reaction not even in front of that bastard, what was going to happen once he was near that mansion again? Or in front of him?]

You should be afraid! You don't even know what he'd do to you. Or what he'd make me do to you.

[He didn't take the hand, he found his body resisting every attempt to move no matter what he tried to do. The vampire bit his lips, his eyes darting over the darkness of the river and he found himself lost into it for a moment as he fought to regain control of himself.] He would turn you, to make you last. And then he'd have me do horrible things, like- ripping your pretty eyes out over and over, every day, and collect them. Maybe even putting them in a jar in the quarters all us spawns share, just to remind you your place. [And that would be nothing, Astarion had his body defiled in every possible way, either through torture or abused, for decades, Cazador'd even be more cruel with someone who helped his toy run for so long. He didn't understand himself, he needed people to stand between him and his master and he had known Nepione for such a short time she couldn't really matter to him but-] You cannot- you will not become my new sister in pain.

[Somehow, that thought was unbearable. It had to be only because it implied he was going to fall under his master once more, if there was more he was forcing his mind to ignore it, not to read too deeply into the most confusing feelings he had in quite some time. It took him a moment too long to realize he was breathing hard and deep, not something his body required but still one of those remaining reactions that reminded him he was once alive.

Crimson eyes closed for a long moment as he leveled his own bodily functions, his entire undead system going from what was almost a pre-panic attack state, something he would never acknowledge, to a stillness that was innatural as the vampire himself.It was only when he regained control that he reached with his hand forward, just touching one of the two that had been offered to him.

Not completely open, no, the other arm was still sealed in a defensive posture. But it was a step forward, even if he didn't realize it.]

That... thing you saw on my back. I need to know what it means, why it was made and why Cazador was obsessed with it. He called it a love poem, he called me his gem, but I remember enough of his scalpels and how they dug in my flesh to know it's an infernal something. I know it's just not a fancy poem, I'm not stupid, and if this gives that son of a bitch any leverage on me I must know it before approaching his place.

[divinestrike]

[She had never considered what it might have been like to be turned. The possibility had simply never occurred to her. The only vampire spawn she'd known was Astarion, and to her understanding, only an actual vampire could do the turning. Had she never met current company, she likely never would have found herself in Cazador's presence. Suffice it to say that when it came to vampirism, she had been blissfully ignorant.

Tilting her head as she listened to him rattle off all of the possibilities, her greater concern was him. How everything had affected him. For a man who was ordinarily so calm, so collected (even if only on the outside), she wondered what it was that had finally set him off. The lack of food, perhaps? The bleak and empty feeling of the Shadow-Curse about them. They were protected at present, but they couldn't simply stay at the Last Light forever.

...Maybe it would be better to encourage him to stay behind. Just another effort to protect him. But if Raphael showed up to collect, she wanted to be there. She needed to be the one standing between the two of them. Surely she could appeal to the devil on Astarion's behalf, though Astarion was certain to hate that.

Her attention turned back onto the present when she felt the touch of his one hand, as cold as the rest of him, she thought. Had he ever felt warmth? Did he remember what it felt like at all? Was he incapable of it, as he was of breath, of the enjoyment of real food, of the beat of a heart? With a great deal of care, she took his hand between both of her own, protected it. Coveted it. Treated him with all of the gentleness that she would have for something precious.]

The— [Oh. He meant the amalgamation of scars. Yes. She'd... remembered them. She had remembered some words from them, she thought, as well. For some moments, she tried to recollect what she'd been able to pick out. It'd been difficult with the gash that he'd endured, but—]

Hm... non iurare per igneu.

[And at first, it sounded like some random collection of words, but when she said them, it was evident there was familiarity. She had not made a habit of speaking infernal in his presence or anyone else who wasn't a tiefling. Her people were already so disliked. There was no reason to add onto it.]

There were some other parts, as well. I remember thinking it would have been easier to understand without all of the stitching at the time. It didn't read like a poem to me, though. More like... a decree?

[pale_elf]

[Hell. Turning was hell. It wasn't a smooth process where one would fall asleep and wake up reborn, no, it was a slow process of dying in pain while the body cracked and hurt and warped with no chances of fighting it. And that was not even the worst part of it, that was the beginning. What did it set him off? Fear. For the rest of them there still was a tower to deal with before considering to move toward Baldur's Gate, a curse to break, souls to save and if what he heard was correct people to free from the tower. From his point of you there was only that between and going back where his master could find him again.

He was going to be within reach so soon and he was not marching back with an army at his heels, all he had was a bunch of grateful tieflings, a single druid from the groove that MAYBE wasn't going to turn against the unnatural undead of the group. He lacked... resources, everything, and Raphael only dug deeper into his insecurities. He laughed about his situation, told him that he was fucked anyway, taunted him taking advantage of the fact they were away from anyone else... and all Astarion could do was reaching for the Devil's hand and shake it in the end. It was scary, humiliating, it was everything- and he had nothing else.

And she was going to die, one way or another. Once again he pushed back any thought that brought him back to a certain victim he took in at some point, processing his thoughts fast enough not to be hit by them and locking them away without acknowledging them. He didn't know to know he was rememebring a certain someone who died long ago, he didn't want to know what he implied considering it was her company that brought back that bittersweet sensation and the only way he could survive this was completely. ignoring. everything.

He still kept his hands between hers, unable to let go.]

Yes, that.

[Her next words shook him to the core. He gasped, realizing she could... read them? Of coure, tieflings knew infernal, but that was supposed to be some kind of incredibly old infernal and tieflings didn't live much longer than humans, who even knew how the language changed since then? Oh, but then again devils of all kinds were using it so perhaps- his movement was almost abrupt as he pushed back, his hands almost immediately went to the leather straps and belts keeping his armor together. Not once in two hundred years he managed to undress as fast as he did in that moment, but it was a matter of seconds before his dark leather armor was on the floor, almost immediately followed by his eccentric white and patched shirt and an undershirt that he wore to insulate himself from the outside world a bit more and keep the heat in whenever he was lucky to absorb enough heat from the outside.

No scenes, no big acts, he just turned to offer her full view of his back and tried to reach it with the tip of his fingers, barely managing to touch some points of it.]

What. What does it say, then?

[divinestrike]

[What had followed was so swift that she was, in all manners of ways, rather unprepared for it. But when she played catch up and found him offering her his back, it made sense. Infernal had a variety of... She might have referred to them as dialects, though she couldn't claim to be a professional in it by any means. She knew what she could only consider the most basic, which was a great deal why she couldn't determine the whole thing. In her opinion, she'd only been able to grasp certain things here and there.

Hesitating for several moments, she decided it was better to be straight forward with him than feed him any kind of false hope.]

It's important that you understand I won't be able to read it all, but I'll share with you what I can.

[Drawing in a breath as she neared him, she reached up and with the pad of her finger, very painstaking and careful, she traced along the markings, as if she might better commit them to memory. To her, it felt so disjointed. Like it didn't make sense. But when she got to the line she remembered, or partial, as it was incomplete from what she could read, she slowed down and deliberately followed the writing, so he would know what part she was reading.]

This part is the one that says non iurare per igneu. That's... Well. 'Per igneu' pertains to fire. Flame. Like saying 'by way of fire.' 'In fire.' 'By fire.' It's contextual. I can't read the whole thing, so I can only put together some pieces here and there. But the way it's written doesn't sound like any kind of poetry I've ever read, so I hesitate to call it a poem.

[Loosing a sigh, she followed along the rest, tilting her head and still using her touch to navigate, careful to pause where she needed to and to think. It was different to do so when she wasn't pulling his skin back together.]

Mmm. This one. This one is a little easier. Eoai mundo muoat. Sort of. It's referencing... maybe death in the world? A world of death? I don't really understand the context of it. I suspect there's a few lines here, and in a certain order they might make more sense, but I'm afraid I don't know enough to put all of that together for you. But it definitely isn't what I would consider a poem. It sounds more like... an invocation? An incantation? Like... like something meant for unsealing something else.

[After a pause, she continued.]

The others, do they have scars like these? If so, I imagine theirs may say something else. You could probably put them all together and understand the full context, but...

[But something told her that would be a terrible idea. If she was right and it was an incantation, it probably wasn't for anything good.]

I feel like we need to stop that from happening.

[pale_elf]

[This was possibly the most important thing he could get from anyone at the moment and the simple idea of not dealing with a devil for any translation? Oh, he could have kissed Nepione if he got answers and he didn't have to listen to Raphael any longer, the bastard made it clear that something was... wrong with whatever he had on his back and Wyll's patron, when asked, refused to get involved. His shoulders fall just slightly when she mentions she can't read it all, it's not what he hoped but anything is still better than nothing at all.]

Okay...

[That's all he said, instinctively arching his back as soon as her fingers touched its delicate skin. Even when he took lovers, even when he was used, he hated feeling anything over there- and this was so different from the familiar pain, even from the more basic stitching of a wound, that he could hardly detatch his mind from it. Her fingers were so delicate... no matter how aware of her claws he was, he felt something mixed with his anxiety and decided completely to focus on her words instead.

Shit, he wished the fucker didn't straight up prohibit him from learning entire languages. The one on his doors, the runes his siblings had, everything. It wasn't surprising the 'love poem' wasn't as romantic ad he had been told, but more she read of it the less confident he felt about this whole situation. An incantation, an invocation, something... the vampite crossed his legs once more, placed his elbows on the knees and rested his head behind his hands.]

If I was some kind of... potion part? That would hardly surprise me considering how many parts of this body he took over time. But you make it sound like I'm some kind of... key? For something? It would explain how he stubbornly kept me to his side unless I was allowed to go outside to hunt for him.

[He nodded in her direction.] They have something, but it's much smaller. A rune here or there, but we weren't allowed to read them nor to learn the language. [A small pause] I was his favorite, you know?

[And it couldn't mean anything good for him. If for some reason Cazador really liked him, in his perverse and horrible way, then there was a fat chance he was going to put the incantation to use just to punish him for running away. He swallowed by instinct before reaching for his shirt and tossing it back on.]

which means I really need Raphael's help.

[divinestrike]

[She didn't know what he was or what part he played in the whole thing, but it certainly sounded larger than just him. Especially when he admitted that he was the favourite. Nothing about that sounded like a positive thing. No wonder Cazador had been so intent to chase him down. She thought back to the Gur that they had encountered in the swamp of the hag's cosy abode. That had only been one man. If Cazador wanted Astarion back so intensely, and of course he did, then it would mean they would only face more.

Astarion had ever reason to experience fear.

At least she could say, despite all of the bigoted treatment thrown in her direction, at least she wasn't being hunted down. At least, not to her knowledge. And if she ever was, she would have preferred to be left in the dark over it. Living every day, never certain if she was safe at night, that wasn't living at all. Astarion, despite not being under the clutches of the vampire who'd turned him, was no more free with her than he had been when he was tortured and tormented.

She shook her head slowly as he pulled his shirt back on, thinking to Raphael yet again. Yes. He'd probably know. Tiefling blood wasn't so far removed from that of devils, which was likely in part why her people faced the prejudices that they had. Raphael was simply... more like a more complete version of herself. A better one, he probably would have argued.]

When he next shows, I want you to let me speak with him. I can't just let you hand yourself over and I'm not willing to let that happen, regardless of how displeased you might be to hear me say as much. That isn't a request.

[pale_elf]

[He took longer putting on his armor once more, mostly because he didn't feel any urgency to do so. The marks on his back weighted more than before but he had to push them to the side if he wanted to be productive in any way and... ha had enough time to panic. Somehow something in this whole process made him feel a bit calmer, even if it made no goddamn sense, and he had the confirmation that talking to Raphael had been the right thing to do, no matter how upsetting the entire thing had been.

He listened, nodded and finished to put everything back in place, his eyes wandering toward the darkness outside once more. What was he even supposed to do? He definitely got the cleric by his side, this was good and the plan all along, but he still felt... lost? He had other things to say, other questions, but his senses alerted him that at least one person was now watching the scene, so he had to compose himself. Was it Karlach who questioned where they went? Was is another member of their group? He didn't even care, he still needed time alone. Or with her, for reasons he didn't understand, but he knew she had others who needed her.]

I'll stick around and alert you if he shows up. For now all I can do is wait. [A deep, deep breath. There was no fresh blood at all in his body to even give the illusion of oxygenation and bring some color to his skin, but he still needed it. The man pushed himself back on his feet, turning toward her and owning his mask once more. A smile, a pose slightly to the side, his tone of voice going back to the sarcastic and amused self he always was...] Love, I think they're waiting for you. Must be our barbarian. I think I felt that blacksmith's smell when I arrived here. Donnel, Dinnel, Dinner... you know, I think the lovely duo is waiting to hear where we put the infernal iron.

I will be fine. I'm just finishing to play my lute and nothing. Is. wrong. Now go. I take the blood offer very thankfully but I'm not hungry and I'm sure I spotted spme juicy goblins not too far from the entrance. Also got to smell a drow. And spiders. Kind of weird if you ask me. I'll go hunting as soon as I am done looking cool by the water.

[Maybe he was wrong, maybe he was paranoid, but if anyone was actually there they had to hear his voice for that part. What followed, on the other hand, was barely a whisper.]

For what it's worth.. thank you.

[divinestrike]

[...For all she wanted to believe him, Nepione suspected he wasn't going to tell her a thing. Which meant probably trying to track down Raphael herself. She hated that idea, too. If she went out of her way to find him, especially on Astarion's behalf, well... That simply spelt out a whole variety of implications that it seemed better to keep out of the heads of others. Although she was tempted to pressure him, even just a little more, she conceded. That he had said as much as he had was more than she had deserved. It would only anger him all over again if she did. He was a little closer to where he wanted to be, even if she hadn't been able to more properly address things on his behalf.

...Surely a little closer was better than not close at all. Or not. Astarion so much seemed like an all or nothing man.

When he made mention of Karlach, she found herself looking around, only partially correcting him when he was making mention of infernal iron. Ah. He meant the blacksmith.]

Dammon.

[She said quietly before lifting her arms above her head in an elongated stretch. Sure seemed like her work was never done. Good thing she was content to run herself ragged. Again and again and again. How long she could keep that up for, she hardly knew. But if Astarion had tolerated her as long as he was able, there was no sense in stirring him up any further.

Instead of addressing things any further, prying into him, nagging him, scolding him, or anything else, however, she simply looked at him when she heard the very quiet, almost imperceptible words that followed. And those ones seemed real. Pausing for some moments, as though she wasn't sure what to do with them, she shook her head.]

It's nothing. I'd best go. If you need anything, let us know. I'm going to make the rounds, check with Karlach and Dammon, take care of what I need to, and map out a route for us for when we leave. I should be prepared to present it tomorrow at some point. We'd best not get comfortable at Last Light.

[pale_elf]

[Probably not, no. At least he told himself thaat it was the best way to handle things- after all if he was away from the others when Raphael decided to show his ugly face it wasn't like he could run back to the team just to have Nepione at his side. The others were going to find this... interesting for sure. Astarion going from being a flirt in front of everyone (and with everyone) to him keeping his distance and the chaste cleric being the one keeping an eye on him- and possibly being the only one who knew what was going on. He as more than glad the conversation dropped, at least.

He had already exposed himself far too much for little to no return and- he didn't need her to show anything more of his real self, whatever that was, to someone who was objectively just part of his survival plan. He raised one hand, gently waving it and not even looking at the woman.]

Yeah, him, Dennis, he probably got good news for his flamey girlfriend or something. Go get happy news for yourself too.

[They had so much infernal iron now, between what they got at the goblin camp, what they got in the blighted village and- everything. The Tiefling deserved to get a chance to get laid or something, he tried to make that comment and it just died on his lips because apparently his brain was against being crass just for the moment. He... needed to reset himself, get ready once more for his travels and things and... something!

He huffed, reaching for his bag and taking a torch out. He was going to do something, maybe look for anything he could bite into and- he didn't even know.]

I'm going to scout the area and put down some kind of map. I know the area shifts and changes but it'll be better than nothing. You try not to have every single person in this camp rely on you for something, mh? We have plenty of problems as it is.