The_Real_Grass
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The underground chasm was as dark and dank as Durge had remembered it. His footsteps echoed in the shadow of the path that once laid open. It was no surprise, after all the nether brains damage to the city had been nearly cataclysmic. It’d be foolish to think the underground would have fared any better...A desire, a whim, a calculated risk, whatever it may have been, it led him down the path to where the Nether Brain once lay dormant, with two hundred gold pieces rattling in his pocket.
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But it wasn't the button that made Astarion upset, or the safe, or even the key. It was the look on Lamia's face as she draped herself in her clothing, hiding within herself the best she could to stay from everyone's eyes, and keeping her head low as she made her way over to that portrait, her usual melodic cadence and stride replaced by one that only showed her shame in herself.