[Astarion took a purposefully looooooong sip of his cider before turning to his disapproving companion over here. Cocking an eyebrow, he decided to respond with the grace of someone who just been called out as the peanut gallery.]
Would the party here be able to handle it, I wonder. Tales of blood curdling terrors that feed on the fears of the weary and naive. Maybe I mean that too, quite literally.
Such stories as those who thrive in the act of murder for their cult of just that, murder and carnage.
[He leered.]
You wander the wrong alleyways in my home city, you’d be at risk to come across maybe a face you know. But there could be something odd about them, and before you could figure it out…your body would be on the dirty cobblestone streets.
no subject
Would the party here be able to handle it, I wonder. Tales of blood curdling terrors that feed on the fears of the weary and naive. Maybe I mean that too, quite literally.
Such stories as those who thrive in the act of murder for their cult of just that, murder and carnage.
[He leered.]
You wander the wrong alleyways in my home city, you’d be at risk to come across maybe a face you know. But there could be something odd about them, and before you could figure it out…your body would be on the dirty cobblestone streets.