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The little troupe of heroes were winding down for the night, fed and cleaned from the gore of the day. Gale tended to the communal pot at the center of the camp while Astarion fussed around him.
“Darling, I may have not consumed real food in 200 years but even I know that is a disgusting choice of herb!” Astarion looked down at the pot which a grimace, a finger pinching his nose shut.
The vampire gives an oof as Gale elbows him hard, adding the offending herb despite protests. “I will have you know that this particular delicacy was perfected over many late nights of study! Nothing wrong with a little bit of ash.” Astarion scoffs, twirling in a dramatic circle around Gale with hands flailing, mouth spilling with insults and sarcasm alike.
Shadowheart and Lae'zel ignore the pair, drinking and relaxing a ways away. Karlach plays with the furry companions of the camp, throwing a ball and egging Scratch and the Owlbear cub to race each other.
Wyll and Tav sit nearby on a log, laughing wildly.
“With how much Astarion is mincing, you would think he is a peacock! A mating ritual!” Tav holds her sides as she speaks, giggles taking over as more words spill out.
“Ah the dance of lovers, a wondrous sight! But it’s hardly a mating display, look at that foot work!” Wyll teases. Astarion snaps his head at the pair, his eyes narrowing. He abandons Gale, who smirks at his retreating back.
“I will have you know, Mr. Blade of Frontiers, that I am the best dancer in all of Baldur’s Gate!” Astarion announces with flair as he hears peals of laughter erupt from behind him.
“You? The best? Doubtful! You have not seen my dancing then, oh no, I have been the most requested partner at many a ball!” Wyll boasts, thumping his chest as Tav coughs with laughter.
“I don’t know Astarion, he does has some fancy footwork!” Karlach yells across the camp, fighting with the Owlbear cub to pry the ball from its beak.
Sufficiently egged on, the nail in the proverbial coffin is sunk when Gale quips, “I have never seen you dance Astarion, don’t know if I can trust your word over Wyll.” Astarion rounds on the wizard with a snarl, then stomps closer to Wyll, snatching his hand and pulling him up.
“Tav, get your lute out,” Astarion spits out, dragging Wyll away to a clearer area in the camp. Tav stops giggling, then grins wide and retrieving her lute, lightly plucking away. The remaining warriors of the camp move closer, squeezing on the log with Tav.
“Show me your dance hero, let us see who has the two left feet!” Astarion lets go of Wyll's hand, gesturing to Tav to start. She starts up a chipper tune, Karlach joining to clap along for a beat.
Wyll gives the vampire a mocking bow, and with a jump, Astarion and Wyll dance around each other, feet stomping and hands waving. It is clear that Wyll is the more accomplished dancer, but Astarion is able to keep up toe to toe. Shadowheart smiles, elbowing Lae'zel who wears a fierce scowl. Gale shakes his head, continuing to stir his pot.
The pair dance away to the tune Tav plays, Karlach now beating on her drum. Wyll grins widely as they circle each other, and Astarion has a look of fierce concentration.
At the close of their dance, Wyll gives a bow to the audience, sending Shadowheart into a fit of laughter.
“So, it is obviously very clear who is the best dancer here!” Astarion declares proudly.
“If that was a courting ritual Astarion, you would only inspire me to murder,” Lae'zel says with a deadpan tone. And the camp is lost, every member except Astarion overcome with laughter.