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Summary
The woman tilted her head. "Do you know what we just did to you?"
Astarion's eyes darted between them, perplexed by the question. What they did to him…?
That's when he noticed the Selûnite pendant around her neck. She was a cleric… had she healed him? He tried to piece together a scenario that made any sort of sense, but the details barely added up. Had these people found him? If so, why did they drag him across the city? How did they do such a thing? Why wasn't he in Harborside getting treatment? He wasn't sure exactly how severe his injuries had been, but he knew for a fact that a simple healing potion would not have done a thing to mend him back together.
"Are you… healers?" he asked.
The bearded man's mouth dropped open. "Healers—? What? No," he began to reach for him, but thought better of it and awkwardly closed his fist instead. "Astarion, it's me. Gale."
Astarion didn't recognize his name or his face in the slightest, but the way he was looking at him gave him pause.
"I… I don't…" Astarion shook his head slightly, racking his brain. "I'm sorry… Have we met before?"