madness unleashed continued from x
It was halfway through The High Houses of Avernus that the novel almost found its way to the ground under the weight of the half-elf's incriminations, barreling down his way like a barrage of arrows loosed from a dozen bows, each one aimed at the heart of his conscience.
There were storms, forces of nature, and then angry women. In the vampire's view, the only difference between the three of them was that one could only hope to survive the first two, and Astarion never forgot a hurricane waiting to strike.
The petty purse-snatcher in him almost took offence that Shadowheart thought he'd care about such spoils, but as a patron of mistakes, he could see why.
"That soap with more hair stuck to it than one of Halsin's wild shapes, you mean?" An exaggeration, but @grief-worn's outburst gave reason for offence. "I do happen to have my own toiletries, thank you. There's hardly a need to go about nicking soaps from someone else." Not to say his own piece hadn't been looted out of a merchant's pockets at some point or anything, but... "Have you tried looking for it prior to casting blame? You'd be surprised with the results."
