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[thirsted]

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ASTARION

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[corporeity]

[ A hen, named after their companion Shadowheart. It’s such a small, sweet thing — irritating to her, to be sure, yet telling of a longing for their little crew. Gale smiles to himself, altogether fond. ]

2a. You should have named her Shadowhen, hah! I look forward to making her acquaintance.

2b. As an aside, I did notice there are a number of vampires here. Are you quite alright?

[ hm, probably too sincere for Astarion’s taste. ]

3. Minthara! That is most strange. Perhaps a divergent timeline. The road not taken, so to speak, or an alternative reality. I imagine the drow would be a tough nut to crack, even if we were in favour of senseless slaughter.

[thirsted]

Oh, Shadowhen! It was right there in front of me and I completely missed it ... though perhaps that's a small mercy in and of itself. Imagine if we'd simply called Scratch "Dog."

[ And, yes — it is a rather sincere question, though the ups and downs of the past few months have made it more welcome than it might otherwise be. ]

I've been, shall we say, unharmed at the very least. Their natures are rather different, but that's been less of an issue than the house's apparent compunction to lump us all together.

It's quite the intriguing thought exercise, at the very least. But the important thing is that you remember me, and I remember you.

I should have asked you this earlier — what's the last thing you remember?

[corporeity]

[ You remember me, and I remember you. How strange to find something so simple a comfort, when Gale has yearned for higher knowledge and impossible answers the whole of his life. ]

Then let us add that you are unharmed, and so am I, to that list of important facts.

[ Were he still an archwizard and chosen of Mystra, Gale would stand a chance against a vampire lord. Not so now, diminished as he is, and still he resolves to better understand the others in this place, who might harm the only relic of — not home, exactly, when their travels have carried them far from Waterdeep, but something like it. The warmth of companionship lost even by the hearth in his tower. Too quiet, particularly when Tara needed to take her leave in search of artefacts. ]

One of the clever, little tieflings that lightened my pockets at the Grove came to our aid with the Harpers. [ naturally, this begets the question: ] Do you recall something different?

[ Sudden apprehension in his heart, knife-sharp, marching orders never far from his mind since Elminster uttered them. ]

[thirsted]

[ In the seconds it takes for Gale's answer to come through, Astarion feels a similar chill run down his spine, a set of cold fingers closing around his heart. Multiple possibilities exist — none of them terrible, per se, given that Gale is here at all, and in one piece no less, but still ... unappealing, to a degree, to think about.

So the text comes as a relief, even if it does add a few complications to what they can and can't talk about. ]

We were just about to reach Baldur's Gate.

[ We, as in you and I and the others, which he hopes doesn't need clarifying. ]

How curious. Three months gone and yet you're still behind on the path.

[corporeity]

[ Three little dots, appearing and disappearing. Gale doesn’t yet know that’s a tell of his indecision. ]

Assuming there is one path.

[ If Minthara and the girl who knew them elected to take another, their lives could just as easily branch here, too. Gale, for once — tries not to think about it, relief and disappointment flooding him at that we. Impossible to ignore the way his stomach drops. You failed her again, the clearest thought, ringing out on repeat. Death should be a small price to pay for eternity in Elysium at her side. ]

As I said, impressive spellwork.

Have I missed anything else, in your months here? You haven’t taken to magic or poetry in my absence, have you?

[thirsted]

[ Assuming there is one path. Astarion's first instinct is to think smart-ass, but his second is to begrudgingly agree — how else to explain Elodie, after all? ]

No, I haven't fallen so far as to fashion myself a bard.

[ He types out I made a few friends before deciding to delete it, reasoning that they don't need Gale instantly hopping into their inboxes. And besides, how embarrassing. ]

Last month, the house compelled us all to play a game — people committed violence against their will, became capable of magical acts they weren't capable of before, and the dead resurrected after the game was done. "Impressive spellwork," as you say, though none of it has gotten us any closer to discovering who the spellcaster is.

[corporeity]

A master of the school of enchantment, to be sure. I’ll look into the house itself and the compelled. Magic of that power often leaves traces, imperceptible to the eye but undeniable to the higher senses.

[ wait. ]

Were you affected by the game, Astarion?

[thirsted]

[ this fuckin nerd ....... ]

We all were, as far as I can tell. But I wasn't affected as severely as some of the others — I had no role, my compulsion was only to cast my vote.

Alia Atreides, Danny Johnson, Louis de Pointe du Lac, David Collins, Lauralae, Jem Walker, and Eddie Munson were the wolves — those compelled to kill.

[ Which he fully expects will lead Gale to interrogate all of them, but better them than him— ]

I should mention Lauralae is from our world. She is of the Feywild, but found her way to Faerûn.

[corporeity]

[ A new thought: Would Astarion confess if he were badly affected? Yes, Gale decides, after a spot of needling. ]

I’ve jotted the names down, thank you.

[ nerd!!! ]

Of the Feywild! Now, that is something. I’ll have much to ask her, it seems.

[ He takes a moment to write down his questions so he doesn’t forget, in all the excitement. ]

I do, however, have more for you first.
Do they procide adequate sustenance for you here?

[thirsted]

[ Is Astarion going to sneak into Gale's room to check his notes later, maybe, maybe not. (Is he touched by Gale asking, maybe.) ]

They actually serve carafes of blood at mealtimes, if you can believe it.

[ Though he's partaken only sparingly — blood being served without any hint of its provenance is the kind of gift horse it's perhaps worth looking in the mouth. (He thinks of Hawk, then, too — of Matt's offer of blood. Not that he's taken either of them up on it, yet, but it seems like only a matter of time.) ]

I've made do.

What of yourself? Your appetite was once rather
unconventional.

[corporeity]

[ Follow-up questions knock against his teeth. But do you indulge? When he’d taken to the boar rather than bite his companions. It’s blatant, inconsiderate curiosity, rather than the protective instinct that drove his initial query.

His mother would disapprove. ]

I believe stabilising the orb has ceased its consumption. [ of magical objects, of his very person. ] Though the hunger remains.

[ An infinite, insatiable thing, hollowing him out. It can no longer devour, merely wait.

Belatedly, he realises that isn’t particularly helpful to admit to one who seems almost — concerned for his wellbeing. ]

It’ll pass, I’m sure.

[ he lied, lyingly. ]

[thirsted]

[ That's a relief, at least, though some part of him wishes that the Balfours had had to deal with Gale's imminent implosion — perhaps that would have finally incentivized their hosts to make the nature of the house somewhat clearer.

But it's a cruel thought in its own right — Gale's condition isn't something to be used. ]

Hunger is a wretched thing.

[ He ought to know. Before the words — the phantom of concern — can really stick: ]

I may know how to acquire a few enchanted items, if you have need of them.

[corporeity]

[ An echo of that concern, uneasy that Astarion should know an even greater, centuries-longer hunger than what afflicts Gale. Camaraderie, too, when understanding is a rare thing.

All swept away by the segue, naturally. ]

You know I won’t condone thievery.

1/3

[thirsted]

[ ????????????????????????????? ]

2/3

[thirsted]

[ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ]

[thirsted]

[ Completely bypassing the fact that the route he'd been thinking of taking involved no thievery at all: ]

Starve, then, see if I care!

1/2

[corporeity]

[ ??????????????? ]

2/3 jk

[corporeity]

[ TYPING DOTS FOR A FULL MINUTE ]

INT CHECK ✔️ WIS CHECK ❌

[corporeity]

I’ve offended you.

[ but he doesn’t understand how……… ]

[thirsted]

[ After typing out and deleting I'm capable of solving problems through more than petty thievery: ]

Why don't you try eating the house? It's a magical object, isn't it? Brick by brick, it ought to last you years.

[corporeity]

I don’t literally eat magical artefacts, Astarion.

[ a beat. ]

And I suspect the magic at work here tastes most foul.

[ regina george voice: so you admit it. you eat them. ]

I'M SORRY

[thirsted]

So you admit it. You eat them.

1/?????

[corporeity]

I don’t eat them!

[corporeity]

Do you imagine I unhinge my jaw and swallow a suit of armour whole?

[ what the fuck!!!! ]

3/4 🥹

[corporeity]

It’s
The magic
I [ typing and deleting “eat” ] consume the magic