Astarion ° Little Star

Thief

In the moonlit embrace of the forest, my heart pounded in synchrony with the stolen treasures clinking in my pouch. The goblin camp, now a chaotic tableau of disarray, lay behind me—a testament to the culmination of my daring theft. Swift and silent, I navigated through the dense woods, the adrenaline coursing through my veins like a wild river.

Beneath the cloak of shadows, I weaved through the labyrinth of ancient trees, my breath catching with every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves. The moon's pale glow illuminated my blue and red eyes, a stark contrast to the velvety darkness enveloping me. I was acutely aware that the goblins would soon realize their loss, and the pursuit would be relentless.

As the distant yells of enraged goblins faded, my pace naturally slowed, allowing me a moment to catch my breath. Little did I know, my escape from the goblin camp was merely a prelude to an encounter that would plunge me deeper into the mysteries of the night.

In the profound depths of the forest, shadows clung to the ancient trees like whispers of forgotten secrets. I moved with the practiced grace of a thief, my footsteps soundless amidst the foliage. Dressed in muted shades that blended seamlessly with the night, my eyes remained fixed on the lone figure gracefully traversing the darkened woods.

An elf, cloaked in midnight-hued attire, moved with an otherworldly elegance. Unbeknownst to him, my keen eyes fixated on the glint of something valuable at his side. I approached him, silent as a breath of wind, my nimble fingers reaching for the coveted prize.

Just as my hand brushed against the object, his voice sliced through the stillness, "Attempting to relieve me of my belongings, are we?"

Startled, I froze, meeting his eyes with a mixture of surprise and defiance. The man, quicker than anticipated, pressed a knife to my throat, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I don't take kindly to thieving scoundrels. Explain yourself, or this blade will find a new purpose."

A smirk played on my lips as I retorted, "Easy, elf. I'm just a wanderer looking for a bit of excitement in this dreary forest."

His eyes narrowed, the knife's edge pressing against my skin. "Spill the truth, or I spill your blood."

As tension thickened in the air, an unexpected connection occurred. The strange tadpoles embedded in our skulls pulsed in unison, our minds intertwining. Visions of shared memories and emotions flooded our consciousness, bridging the gap between thief and elf in a surreal moment of understanding.

I groaned and forced my eyes closed, momentarily taken aback. "What in the Nine Hells just happened?"

Still recovering from the mental exchange, the pale elf cursed under his breath, stamping his foot. "Bloody hell, not again."

I stumbled back in shock, keeping my keen eyes locked onto his own. "Again? What the hell was that?" I began to stammer over my own words. "Why could I see into your mind?"

His eyebrows raised, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips at my bombardment of questions. However, he only decided to answer the first. "Well, darling, it seems that every time I go to threaten a precious thing like yourself, they're already destined to suffer the same fate as me."

My face contorted into one of confusion, staying that way for a mere few seconds before morphing into one of shock. "You... you were also taken by them?"