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Summary
He spreads his hands, cocks a hip, knows it’s a grotesque parody. “What? Aren’t I still beautiful?”
“I…” Gale whispers, then swallows hard. “Astarion…”
“This is what happens to a spawn when their sire dies. Apparently. It doesn’t seem to matter how much I feed—and before you ask, I’ve been spending what little energy I have hunting down the rest of Bhaal’s cultists. They taste vile,” he adds conversationally.
“You’re rotting,” Gale says hoarsely. “You’re—gods, Astarion, how long has it been like this?”The events of the game, but make it bloodweave, alternated with post-game Waterdeep Times. It’s told in vignettes because, well, otherwise it would be a million words long.
**on hiatus**