[ Another goddess. Astarion schools his expression as he clocks where Sanchel's eyes lingered, alighting on Gale's earring as it catches the light. He doesn't answer to any gods, himself, so while he may know their names he can't recognize most by their symbols. A line of casual interrogation for when they're alone. ]
The whole evening? You spoil me, darling.
[ Astarion takes the key and gives Sanchel a wink, fully visible to a reddened Gale as they venture up the stairs. He supposes anywhere in the Castle Ward is going to be busy this time of night; they pass a number of priestesses and patrons, most of the patrons in attire just as fine as Gale's. Entirely possible they'll adhere to noble discretion and not whisper about Gale's appearance here, though Astarion assumes the priests gossip about their patrons regardless.
It's moderately irritating to have to maneuver his hands around the shimmering link between them to open the door, but Astarion is nothing if not dextrous. They're greeted by a room that's lush and grand: plush pillows on the floor surrounding a low wood table laid out with Waterdhavian wine, meats, and cheese; a canopied bed by the balcony entrance, offering sweeping views of the Castle Ward and beyond. A sunken tub rounds out the luxury, mosaic tiles already filled with steaming blue-green water. Delightful.
Astarion would like to flop onto one of the pillows once the door is closed behind them, but doesn't have quite enough slack to do so with Gale still chained to him. He walks backward into the room, instead, bag still held tight to his shoulder. ]
I had a number of buyers in Skullport who were very interested in Arkhennan. [ Does he care that he's gotten the name wrong? Not in the slightest. ] Kind of you to share your knowledge of such a valuable artifact with a complete stranger.
no subject
The whole evening? You spoil me, darling.
[ Astarion takes the key and gives Sanchel a wink, fully visible to a reddened Gale as they venture up the stairs. He supposes anywhere in the Castle Ward is going to be busy this time of night; they pass a number of priestesses and patrons, most of the patrons in attire just as fine as Gale's. Entirely possible they'll adhere to noble discretion and not whisper about Gale's appearance here, though Astarion assumes the priests gossip about their patrons regardless.
It's moderately irritating to have to maneuver his hands around the shimmering link between them to open the door, but Astarion is nothing if not dextrous. They're greeted by a room that's lush and grand: plush pillows on the floor surrounding a low wood table laid out with Waterdhavian wine, meats, and cheese; a canopied bed by the balcony entrance, offering sweeping views of the Castle Ward and beyond. A sunken tub rounds out the luxury, mosaic tiles already filled with steaming blue-green water. Delightful.
Astarion would like to flop onto one of the pillows once the door is closed behind them, but doesn't have quite enough slack to do so with Gale still chained to him. He walks backward into the room, instead, bag still held tight to his shoulder. ]
I had a number of buyers in Skullport who were very interested in Arkhennan. [ Does he care that he's gotten the name wrong? Not in the slightest. ] Kind of you to share your knowledge of such a valuable artifact with a complete stranger.