Astarion, admittedly, was in no rush to actually reach their destination. Don't get me wrong– he absolutely wished to NOT die by his mysterious green hand– but he was a little delayed along the way. Someone (well, dead someones) had left gold and other good loot along the path. So of course– to Cassandra's annoyance– Astarion continuously stopped along the way to shove loot into his bag. Cassandra never tried to stop him from doing so, but Astarion could tell that she was getting frustrated with his insistence to pick up all of the gold spilled along the road. It was only when he looted a dead body that she finally said something about it.

"We need to hurry to close the breach. Leave the poor soul and let's keep moving," Cassandra said, urging him to hurry up.

"Ah, spare me the drama. He clearly wasn't going to use that gold. I mean, really, we're mending a bloody chasm in the sky that's spewing demons left and right. No harm in grabbing a tiny memento as a token of our heroic deeds, right? And honestly, if I can't liberate a tiny shiny keepsake while we're saving the realms, then someone's clearly not appreciating the finer points of adventuring, are they?" Astarion asked sarcastically while putting the dead man's gold into his bag.

Cassandra gave Astarion a look of pure disappointment. "This isn't some adventure– the world may end if we do not stop this. Your life should be payment enough. You will have no use for that gold when you're dead," Cassandra said, looking away from the body.

"Fine, I'll keep going. I'm done with him, anyways," Astarion said, sticking the last of the coins in his bag while standing up.

As they walked, Astarion felt another excruciating surge of pain come from his hand. The illithid tadpole in his head also seemed to react to the hand as well– and not in a good way. Astarion fell over, his head reeling in pain. Although the pain passed quickly, Astarion felt like he could puke. Perhaps he would have, too– if there had actually been anything to puke up. Cassandra helped him stand up, concern evident on her face.

"The pulses are coming faster now. The larger the breach grows, the more rifts appear, and the more demons we face. We should hurry," She says. Her pace quickened from a walk into a jog, and Astarion followed her pace next to her.

They soon crossed over a bridge, which promptly exploded. Honestly, Astarion shouldn't have expected any less. The day only seemed to get crazier and crazier, so it made sense that the bridge would explode as well. Astarion and Cassandra fell down onto the ground below them, and Astarion looked up just in time to see a ball of green light hitting the ground in front of them. The light morphed into an ugly creature and the ground around them began cracking and splintering. The parts of the ground that were cracked were the same vibrant green as his hand.

"Stay behind me!" Cassandra ordered, grabbing her sword and charging at the demon. Astarion looked around for a place he could hide, wanting a back-up plan for when Cassandra died. He was sure that Cassandra was probably a good fighter, but Astarion would feel much better about the situation if he had an actual weapon with him. On a normal day, his fangs would be considered weapon enough. However, this was no normal day, and there was no way that Astarion was going to take his fangs anywhere near that monster. Even the thought of biting that thing made him nauseous.

As Astarion turned to look behind him, he noticed a dagger sitting over on some crates not far from him. He was suddenly feeling much better about their chances for survival. He ran over and took the dagger, then glanced back at Cassandra. She appeared to be holding the demon off well enough, but she definitely needed some support. Astarion quietly snuck around the demon; Cassandra's attack on the demon was holding its attention enough for Astarion to do so.

Once he was fully behind the demon, Astarion plunged his dagger deep into the demon's back. He ripped the dagger back out, only to plunge it back into the demon, stabbing it a second time. He pulled the dagger away once more– blood splattering out as the demon fell to the ground. Astarion was covered in blood, yet completely uninterested in it. He just knew that the blood would be completely vile if he were to ingest any of it. For the first time in ages, he felt gross being covered in blood. He shuttered in disgust.

"Drop your weapon. Now!" Cassandra shouted at him. She raised her sword up at him, as if he were also some kind of monster. Well, technically he was, but Astarion was sure by now that she didn't actually know about his vampirism.

"Excuse me? I just saved your life!" Astarion says, flabbergasted. Now that he had a better weapon, he had no intention of letting it go. Especially not if there were going to be more of those demons along the way.

"You're right," Cassandra says, sighing and lowering her sword. "You should keep it with you. I cannot protect you. I should remember that you agreed to come willingly."

As they continued along the path, there were (obviously) more of those demons; however, they were no match for Cassandra and Astarion. It didn't take them long to reach their destination, even with Astarion continuously looting everything he could find– much to Cassandra's continued annoyance. Cassandra didn't know how he was even managing to fit everything into his bag.

"We're getting close to the rift! You can hear the fighting," Cassandra said, as they ran towards the sounds of fighting.

"Who's fighting?" Astarion asked, while running closer to the sound of the battle.

"You'll see soon enough. We must help them," Cassandra said, running ahead of Astarion to join the battle.

As Astarion neared the battle, he saw what was the source of the trouble– a tear, similar to the one in the sky, but significantly smaller. It almost looked like the world itself was torn open– a jagged rip in what should have been an empty space. Dark and powerful energy came from the center of it, and Astarion didn't need his fancy glowy hand to know that this tear was pretty bad news. Still, he would much rather be here killing the monsters coming from the rift than be back on the nautiloid ship or with Cazador. Honestly, fuck Cazador.

The battle ended almost as quickly as it started. No enemies stood a chance with the current group fighting. The group consisted of: Astarion, Cassandra, A dwarf with a crossbow, an elf with absolutely no hair on the top of his head, and a few other random soldiers that had nothing notable enough for Astarion to care about. Speaking of the elf– as soon as the last enemy had been killed, the elf grabbed Astarion's wrist and held his hand up to the rift in the air.

"Quickly! Before more come through!" The elf shouted. Astarion felt a pulling sensation from his hand that almost seemed to soothe the former pain from the mark. He watched in shock as the rift in the air quickly shrank until there was no trace of the rift having ever existed.

Astarion took his arm back, then looked at the elf standing before him. The elf's appearance was unremarkable– but almost too unremarkable. He wore the clothes of a poor traveler, but Astarion could sense the remarkable power within him. He could smell the man's blood, and it was so intoxicating that it was almost begging Astarion to take a sip from it. It seemed to promise power– to promise life– to promise secrets. The blood would undoubtedly be delicious, and Astarion was salivating at just the thought of drinking from the man. Never– in all his years as a vampire– had Astarion ever met someone who had such enticing blood.

Yet, as starved as Astarion felt, he had enough sense left to ignore the sweet temptation of blood. The others were already suspicious enough of him as it stands; he would undoubtedly be killed without a second thought if he tried to bite anyone.

"So, what just happened?" Astarion asked, slightly confused by his hand closing the rift.

"Whatever magic opened the breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized that the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breach's wake– and it seems I was correct," the other elf stated, studying Astarion closely. It almost seemed like the elf knew something was off about Astarion, but had yet to fully determine what.

"You theorized that?" Astarion asked, sending a suspicious glance at the elf.

"Yes. It seems like you hold the key to our salvation," the elf said, also glancing at Astarion with suspicion. "Forgive me– perhaps introductions are in order. My name is Solas," the elf added.

Cassandra seemed to sense Astarion's distrust for Solas. "Solas is an apostate," she clarified, as if that meant anything to Astarion.

"Technically all mages are now apostates, Cassandra. My travels have allowed me to learn much of the fade, far beyond the experience of any circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin," Solas explained.

"It's a pleasure. I'm Astarion," he replied, giving a small nod towards Solas. "But I've never heard of an apostate before. What does that mean?" he asked. The question sparked several looks of confusion from everyone in the area.

"You've… never heard of an apostate?" Cassandra asked slowly. She'd previously assumed Astarion must have been a city elf– as he clearly was not Dalish– but now, she wasn't so sure. She would ask Leliana to look into his origins as soon as the breach was closed.

"An apostate is a mage who is not a part of a circle," Solas explained, but was giving Astarion even more suspicious looks.

"Oh, right. I understand. I was just a little confused– that's all!" Astarion lied. Solas's explanation didn't help much, because Astarion also didn't understand exactly what they meant by 'mages'. He did understand that he'd asked the wrong thing, though. Apparently, 'apostates' must be common knowledge around here. It made him wonder how far away he really was from Baldur's gate. The last jump from the nautiloid ship could have landed him anywhere, and Astarion suspected that it took him pretty far away from home. He almost felt a little excited at the thought of being so far away. Far away from Baldur's Gate also meant that he was far away from Cazador.

"And I'm Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong," the dwarf said, approaching the group and changing the subject.

"That's a nice crossbow you have there," Astarion replied, more than happy to have the conversation focused on someone else now.

"Ah, isn't she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together," Varric said, looking back at his crossbow with a look of fondness.

"You named your crossbow Bianca? How delightful! A beautifully named murder weapon, I must say," Astarion replied, looking a little smug.

"Of course. And she'll be great company in the valley," Varric says, a small grin on his face. For some reason, Varric's response seemed to annoy Cassandra. Astarion decided he liked Varric. They would get along well.

"We must get to the forward camp quickly," Cassandra stated, turning her back to them and walking.

"Well… Bianca's excited!" Varric says, then follows.