boxofmisfits | It's Not a Software Glitch

At least this ship had come with a few less tentacles. It was no less ominous though- perhaps more so. The mind flayer ship had come screeching through the skies, tearing the streets of Baldur's Gate apart. Taking people. This one though, this one just hung there. Like a great big coffin in the sky. Not that Astarion was as bothered as some of the residents of the city- if one had seen one strange alien ship, one had seen them all, far as he was concerned.

And there were no rumors he had heard about this ship stealing people to put parasites in their heads.

So while their visitors was hardly what he'd call friendly, he wasn't going to hold that against them when he wasn't either. No, he was perfectly content to continue to concern himself with his own life, and if an opportunity came to rub elbows with the people in charge of that ship? He'd milk it. He'd milk it for all it was worth.

The people with the odd devices had seemed rather interested in him, so he imagined he'd perhaps get the chance. And if there was some other reason for their interest, they would get his teeth in their throats.

For now though, his plans for the day was to spend a bit of ill-gotten coin that he'd slipped out of a companion's purse- it wasn't like Wyll was going to need it.

Their little group had separated, but Astarion himself could be found near where he had been earlier holding up two chalices as he considered- both in gold, but with different inlays of gemstones- "What do you think? The ruby studded one to go with my eyes, or the inlays of moonstone to go with my hair?"

The clerk he was speaking to sighed as though this was the tenth time they were going over it, "I think- perhaps, sir- the rubies-?"

"Hmm..."

Thrawn was thankful that he didn't have to go far before he found the man. He matched the description, and just to be sure, Thrawn covertly aimed a small camera in his general direction. Turning away, he checked the footage on his mini-datapad, and sure enough, the man wasn't there, and the chalices appeared to be hanging in mid-air. Tucking the items away under his cloak, Thrawn turned back towards their conversation.

In his disguise, he'd been able to pass himself off as a drow, albeit one with a blue tint. Up close, however, it was more obvious that his bone structure was different than a drow's.

Still, Thrawn slid closer and examined the items, already getting an idea of what the man was like if he was interested in buying them. A man who liked pretty things, that much was clear.

"Personally, I would choose the one with moonstones. They match your hair quite well."

Even without those features not quite fitting in with what one would expect of drow, Astarion could tell that they had a very special visitor indeed. After all, the scent of that blood was positively alien. One of the strangers from the ship above, then. Flanked by a pair of humans, with much more familiar blood- even if they came from a place that was not Faerûn.

He of course showed no surprise, lips quirking into a smile instead as he held the moonstone chalice up higher to catch the light, letting it glint off of the gold and the delicate inlay of opalescent white. His head turned just so, to let the light catch his white curls as well.

"Hm..." It was a thoughtful noise and he set the chalice with rubies down and reached into his pocket to produce a bag of gold coins, handing it to the clerk, "This one, then. I'd like it wrapped carefully."

He handed over the chalice as well, and turned fully to the cloaked man as the clerk went to wrap the chalice up for him. His smile was easy. Charming. He'd learned by now that he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to, but- well. Potential power was hard to turn down. And this was just a friendly chat.

"You, my friend, have good taste."

As the man examined his purchase, Thrawn examined him. A high-elf, judging by the ears, the face, and the height. However, he'd yet to see a high-elf with red eyes, be it on the streets or in the camera footage. While he'd seen elves with that skin color, there was something almost unnatural about how pale he was. Still, Thrawn's sample size wasn't big enough for him to come to any conclusions.

There was also something about that smile. Something that told Thrawn that he should proceed with caution.

"As do you," He replied. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Grand Admiral Thrawn of the Imperial Navy."

The smile was easy. Outgoing. Charming.

But there was also a hint of danger there that most people didn't pick up on. Astarion had put plenty of work into it, after all. Back when he had been performing this song and dance for Cazador. Even though he was performing for himself now, it was habit. The danger was as much intrinsic to his act as the theatrical way that he gave a gesture with his hands and a slight bow.

"A pleasure," He said, "I have been very curious about our visitors, after all- as I'm sure is true of all of Baldur's Gate."

And indeed all of Faerûn who had heard the news. There were probably plenty of towns and villages and quaint little druid groves who were having very animated conversations about what all of this meant for them at this very moment.

"My name is Astarion. Former magistrate of this fine city- current adventurer."

Dressed as he was in a fine suit with delicate embroidery, he knew he seemed more like he belonged sitting comfortably in the upper city. But anyone observant enough could likely see where his knives had been hidden away inside his outfit. The easy access he'd have to them if he needed it.

"Indeed. One cannot walk down the street without overhearing a conversation about the ship." Thrawn had heard much whispers about the ship and the visitors on the way over. Some wondered if it had anything to do with so-called 'mind flayers', while others pointed out that the newcomers' pattern didn't fit them.

Thrawn's eyes traveled up and down Astarion's clothes. Yes, this was indeed a man who liked fine things, and liked to look pretty. Thrawn also took note of some strategic tailoring that would easily hide some knives. Very interesting indeed.

"A pleasure, Astarion. As you may have realized, I am a visitor to Baldur's Gate, and would much appreciate it if I knew of some notable places to visit."

Thrawn had studied the statues and architecture of the city, along with paintings on the wall of the inn and just wherever he could apply his ability to read art. It told him much.

Edited 2023-10-09 04:54 (UTC)

"I suppose it must be a light week for gossip," Astarion commented, though he was sure that had circumstances been different, he would have been gossiping along with the rest of Baldur's Gate too. In hushed whispers given that Cazador had not liked to hear him speak, but still. Curiosity was a funny thing that was difficult to restrain once it had taken root, "Give it a few more days, and I'm sure they'll settle back into talking about which patriar's purse has the tightest strings."

He tilted his head to the side slightly, and gave a dismissive but effortlessly theatrical gesture with his hands, "I'd say that depends entirely on your tastes in entertainment."

Baldur's Gate did have something for everyone. And so, it was difficult to say what was more notable than any other thing.

"For books and magic, perhaps a visit to Sorcerous Sundries. For local fashion, there's- ah- Carm's Garms or Figaro Facemaker's. Bloomridge Park is nice this time of year."

His head tilted to the other side then, "Given that you're not local, perhaps a visit to a temple. I've been told that can be quite the learning experience."

A pause as he brought a hand up to his face, resting his thumb beneath his chin and a finger beneath his lower lip, pondering for a moment, "The Elfsong is also a decent place to visit. Just don't go into the room at the back unless you have a fondness for bad jokes."

Seeing as this world didn't have a holonet, gossip was one way that news got around, along with criers selling newsletters.

As Astarion spoke, Thrawn studied his body language. Part of it was genuine, but there was also the air of someone putting on a performance. Someone who used his charm to get others to let their guard down, make them think he was harmless.

"Yes, I passed the park on my way over, and it's quite lovely." And it had statues and flower gardens. "I will be sure to visit the temples while I am here as well." If nothing else, the camera crew had recorded some footage of said temples and Thrawn had seen that they had statues that he could look at.

"Tell me, Astarion, what do you think of the visitors?"

"I think of them as an opportunity. We've always known that we weren't alone- so many planes of existence with visitors happy to move between them when it suits them- but to know now that there is life beyond the stars where we wouldn't even have thought that there could be?"

He smiled, and like before there was a certain calculating air to it. Not quite dangerous, but definitely the smile of someone who had plans.

"That goes both ways of course, but no reason why it can't be a mutually beneficial relationship. I'm sure our quaint little corner of the world has plenty to offer. As do the people."

He was sure they were being seen as barely civilized, but one didn't survive in Faerûn easily without becoming adaptable. If their visitors were here to stay, then the people- and more importantly he- would adapt to take advantage as much as they might get taken advantage of.

"Yes, I'm sure that they do." He was quite sure that Astarion saw through him, and knew that he wasn't even of Faerûn, let alone Baldur's Gate. The man before him was quite cunning, but also devious, and thus Thrawn would have to watch him closely. He still didn't know why Astarion didn't show up on the camera, though at the moment Thrawn theorized that he had some primitive cloaking device on him. Possibly powered by magic.

"Once you have your purchase, perhaps we may continue our conversation over at the Elfsong? Or another tavern?" Someplace where they could tuck into a corner or even get a back room to speak in.

"My, aren't you forward, asking a man out only moments after meeting him? I like it."

It was an opportunity, after all. Had it not been he would be a lot less enthused. Plenty of people approached him with nothing to offer in return, after all. And it was easy enough to see that this wasn't about sex. Not yet, at any rate. It did leave him wondering what it was about but he was sure he would figure that out sooner rather than later.

"The Elfsong is perfectly adequate. Just so long as we don't end up in the comedy club section due to the aforementioned lousy jokes. My ears just could not take it."

"You are also one of the few who has been willing to converse with me, which I appreciate." Thrawn got the impression that others were wary of the Drow, and thus many citizens saw the blue skin and kept their distance. The two humans with him also made him less approachable, seeing as Death Troopers tended to have something uncanny about them.

"I will keep that in mind." Thrawn didn't always 'get' comedy anyway, and was slow to pick up on humor sometimes. "Shall we, then?"

Making sure Astarion and the others were with him, Thrawn made his way to the Elfsong. The building wasn't hard to find, since it stood out among many of the shops. Once inside, Thrawn ordered a bottle of wine and made his way into one of the side rooms where patrons could drink in private.

"Pik, Waffle, stand guard outside. Let me know if I am needed."

"Yes, Grand Admiral."

Foolish to leave himself alone with Astarion, perhaps, but it would help lure the elf into a false sense of security. Plus, Thrawn had a way to signal his Death Troopers if he needed them.

With the door closed, Thrawn sat at the table and poured himself a glass of wine, not yet taking off his disguise. "I imagine you have questions."

"Haven't run into any other adventuring types then, I assume."

Thrawn did look like a drow from a distance, sure. But that would never deter any adventuring types. Or the adventurous types. Though Astarion imagined that those were just scared off by the man's very serious-looking guards. Similar to how he could run people off by smiling a bit too widely.

His wrapped chalice in hand, he followed along to the Elfsong- giving a familiar though not quite friendly wave to the man tending the bar to assert himself as a regular. And he was, in a way. Not a regular in the normal sense, of course. But Thrawn had no way of knowing that- and now they both had a sense that the other was protected. Thrawn by his guards, Astarion by the fact that his face was known here.

He was happy to make himself comfortable too- pouring himself a glass of wine and taking a sip. It was a good vintage. The sort he was getting used to enjoying again, as compared to the swill he'd gotten used to on the road.

"Oh, I can think of a few. Why me for example. I know it's not just because I'm chattier than most."

He wasn't that stupid. Something had obviously caught Thrawn's attention. And he was keen on figuring out what or why- with the hope of being able to use it to his advantage.

"Why you, indeed." Thrawn set his glass down and finally put his hood back, revealing blue-black hair. He then took off his tinted glasses and set them aside, revealing glowing red eyes.

"My media crew were in this area recently, and they ran into something rather odd during filming." He took out his datapad and pulled up the video. "They know for certain that you were among a small crowd that they filmed." He turned the datapad around to show Astarion. In the video, there was indeed a small group, but there was a conspicuous gap where another person should be standing.

"I do not believe it was a problem with the equipment. I think it is something about you in particular."

Edited 2023-10-10 05:13 (UTC)

If Astarion was surprised by his appearance, he didn't show it. He'd certainly stared stranger beings straight in the face and as alien visitors went, Thrawn was downright easy on the eyes. Not a tentacle in sight either which Astarion was taking as a plus these days.

His brows went up slightly at being shown the strange slate and he shifted in his seat to lean forward.

"My, that does add an unfortunate couple of extra pounds onto poor Gale, doesn't it? Or perhaps it's simply the novelty of seeing him in a way I'm not used to."

Moving pictures. Filming. Strange indeed.

"You've not seen anyone cast invisibility or an illusory spell yet, I take it?"

Thrawn took note of the way Astarion looked at the video, seeing his curiosity and surprise. Like he was seeing this kind of thing for the first time. He likely was, given the level of technology on this world.

"You were not invisible when this video was taken. Not to the naked eye, at least."

That was another thing about this world, was the presence of magic. Perhaps it was an extension of the Force, or perhaps it was an energy completely unrelated, that collected entirely around this one world. Thrawn had studied artwork of Dathomir, and knew that the Nightsisters had called their power 'magic', but it was still quite different from what this world called magic.

"So that begs the question. What means do you use to hide yourself from all but organic eyes, and what use is such a spell or device to one such as yourself?"

Security cameras didn't exist here, so it couldn't be to pull off robberies without leaving recorded evidence. Perhaps it hid Astarion from artificial constructs, like the animated suits of armor he'd seen. Or there were creatures with artificial eyes and Astarion could sneak past them.

"Which does leave my comment about illusory spells open, does it not?"

While Astarion's expression remained open and playful in much the same way that he had been the entire time, his voice held a hint of something else. Not quite annoyance, not quite a threat. Just a subtle undertone of disliking that a stranger was trying to pry.

Given that Thrawn was confused and curious about it, Astarion was fairly certain they didn't have vampires or vampire spawn where he was from, but that didn't mean that he wanted to go about openly stating what he was. His little group of misfits were one thing- he trusted them. Somewhat.

Trusting anyone else about his condition? Not something he wanted to do.

What would someone who didn't know about vampires do, he wondered. Perhaps something worse than simply ramming a stake through his ribs. Astarion was no stranger to those who saw weaker or different as some experiment to be poked and prodded. Sometimes he was that man himself.

But the issue, as always, was only if it happened to him.

"Perhaps." Thrawn turned off the datapad and laid it face down on the table for now.

Still, Astarion obviously didn't know what a camera was, so he couldn't have prepared his spell ahead of time to avoid showing up on video. Which meant that it was something that was always activated or something Astarion did unconsciously.

"I have seen some magic during my time here, such as the conjuring of fire or ice. Such powers are unlike anything I have ever seen."

"Really?" Astarion asked, with the puzzlement coming through clearly in his voice. Magic was a truly delicious bit of power, after all. Not something he had ever been able to use against Cazador given that Cazador had had the ability to compel him to do whatever he wanted him to do, but.

If freedom had taught him anything it was that magic's power at his fingertips felt as good as holding a blade or drawing the string of a bow back. It wasn't quite the same feeling as ramming a blade into someone hard enough to send the blood splattering over his arm and chest, but it was close. Satisfying in its own way.

"You have flying ships and strange slates that can capture moments in time, but no magic? Seems rather an odd priority to me."

Astarion was no wizard or sorcerer. But he was fond of the arcane. Used it to his advantage where he could. Seemed strange to him that these strangers from the sky didn't avail themselves of the same power.

"There is an energy similar to magic known as the Force, but its use seems more limited than what I have seen of Faerûn's magic."

From what he'd observed of General Skywalker and studied from pre-Empire artwork, the Force mainly allowed telekinesis, heightened senses and reflexes, some amount of precognition, and in some cases, Force lightning. What the Nightsisters used it for was more mysterious, though Thrawn thought he saw hints of necromancy in their artwork.

"I can also assure you that what is said in this room will be kept between the two of us."

"Have you ever been told that it's polite to wine and dine a man first, before asking him his deepest darkest secrets?"

He tilted his glass of wine toward Thrawn to further punctuate that point, before flawlessly swirling the liquid around and then taking a sip. It was an elegant motion. Well-practiced. Very close to being natural.

"And just this one glass of wine doesn't count."

"If you insist," Thrawn took another sip of wine, giving a subtle smile over the rim of his glass. He stood up and went to the door, opening it a crack. "Pik, would you kindly bring two servings of the house special for my guest and I?"

"At once, Grand Admiral." The sound of someone walking off, and Thrawn closed the door before returning to the table.

Thrawn didn't see what was so personal about Astarion's ability. In fact, in his mind, such a thing would be very useful for their spies or other agents. The ability to come and go without tripping an alarm or showing up on cameras was a very useful ability to have.

Pik returned a few minutes later with two plates of the house special: vegetable stew with a side of bread and cheese.

Edited 2023-10-10 07:55 (UTC)

Oh, Thrawn was one of those types. Astarion should have known. Should have seen it. After all, he was more than just a little acquainted with Gale who- while a tad less extreme about it- was much the same way.

"I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

He pondered briefly about casting an invisibility spell and walking out. He was interested in the off-worlders, the power they could possibly bestow. Authority. But being a vampire openly? Had it been that easy his siblings and the rest of Cazador's spawn would still be in Baldur's Gate and not terrorizing the Underdark.

But it was okay. He could choke this unpleasantness down.

Wouldn't be the first time. Wouldn't be the last.

At least this time it was because he wanted to. Because he was considering what it could mean in the long-term, if their visitors decided to make their stay a tad more permanent. Even so he seemed to turn a touch paler as the stew was set down in front of him. To someone else he was sure it was delicious.

To him it felt an awful lot like having a bowl of rot set down in front of him.

Even so, he dutifully picked up his spoon, stirred the contents and lifted to bring to his lips. It tasted foul. Felt fouler. Like ash. Like grit. Like sludge scraped from the filthiest corners of the sewers below. Sticking to his teeth, coating his tongue.

"Why is it that you want to know? I imagine your people must be far more advanced than mine."

"You gave me an opening and I took it." Thrawn stated.

As he ate some cheese on a piece of bread, he watched Astarion carefully. Even if he tried to hide it, Thrawn could see the disgust as he ate. Thrawn tasted a spoonful of his own stew and found that it tasted fine. Perhaps Astarion simply didn't like something in the stew but was eating it just to be polite.

"We have technology that your world does not, yes, but that does not mean I lack curiosity about this world. For example, it is all but unheard for for a world without space travel to have such a diverse range of sapient races."

Thrawn held up his datapad again, scrolling through still pictures of various elves, gnomes, dragonborns, and tieflings.

"That you did. Can't fault you for that one."

He'd walked into that like an idiot. Like he was a boy again. Or one of his victims. Thrawn seemed like less of a spider than he himself had been though- there was curiosity there, but no malice that Astarion could see. Heartbeat alien, but consistent. He wasn't nervous. Wasn't lying.

Astarion tore a piece of bread to dunk into his stew, still with the appearance of a man who was simply eating a meal. There was no furrow of his brows. No wrinkling of his nose. Even as it felt like putting poison in his mouth and chewing. The way he drank from his cup of wine was greedier- washing the feeling and the taste away.

"Is it truly? I can hardly believe a world less diverse than ours exists."

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