The journey back to Haven passed without much incident. While the Iron Bull and his chargers were also en route to Haven, they maintained their distance from Astarion's party, traveling at their own pace. Upon Astarion's arrival at Haven, Leliana and Cullen wasted no time and ushered him right into the war room. It was clear that they had something of great importance to discuss. Without granting Astarion a moment's respite, they directed him straight into the war room, where Josephine was already waiting.
"The incident you provoked in Val Royeaux has presented us with the opportunity we were seeking. We can now approach either the mages in Redcliffe or the templars for assistance," Josephine explained.
"Opting for the templars would still be the wiser choice. The rebel mages lack the coordination necessary to be of substantial help," Cullen argued.
"Lord Seeker Lucius has proven to be a different man from what I remembered. I have reservations about approaching the templars as our primary option," Cassandra countered.
"We should consider all possibilities. Most of the templar order likely wouldn't follow Lord Seeker Lucius anyway," Cullen added.
"Alternatively, the Herald could simply journey to Redcliffe and meet with the mages," Leliana suggested.
Astarion was rapidly losing patience with the ongoing debate. "Oh, pardon me for interrupting your riveting debate," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But could someone enlighten me on why I was summoned to this thrilling gathering? Clearly you still have some issues to work out, and I'm rather hungry."
"I concur. Let's cease this bickering. However, Redcliffe should not be dismissed outright. The mages may present a viable option," Josephine argued.
"But the Templars are more organized and could serve as a safer choice," Cullen insisted.
Cassandra turned to look at Astarion. "What about you, Astarion? What do you think we should do?" she asked him. The group turned their heads to Astarion, awaiting his response.
"Well, to be perfectly honest, I'm not even sure why you're arguing about this. There's a gaping magic hole in the sky– so why in the hells would we ever choose the people with swords over the people that are actually practiced in magic? I mean, honestly," Astarion said, sounding exasperated.
"That settles it then. We shall head to Redcliffe to seek the aid of the mages. Astarion, I understand we've just returned, but there's no reason to unpack. We depart tomorrow. The sooner we close the breach, the better," Cassandra declared.
"Alright then. Redcliffe's not far from where we were in the Hinterlands, right?" Astarion asked.
"Yes, it shouldn't be more than a couple of days' journey," Leliana confirmed.
"One more thing, Astarion," Josephine interjected, "that group you hired, 'The Chargers,' arrived shortly before you did. You should meet with them today to express your gratitude for their arrival."
"I'll make sure to do that. Anything else on your agenda?" Astarion asked.
"No, that's all. Go and enjoy the rest of your day," Josephine replied.
"Thank you, I intend to," Astarion responded.
Exiting the war room, Astarion walked out of the Chantry. It appeared that more people within wanted to engage in conversation, including Mother Giselle, but Astarion had no desire to deal with them at the moment. He purposefully ignored them and left the room. The remainder of the day was spent gathering supplies for the upcoming trip, discreetly relieving unsuspecting individuals of their belongings, and using the proceeds to acquire new armor, clothing, and weapons. Apparently, telling the blacksmith that the Inquisition would cover the expenses was a deception that would only work once.
As the sun began its descent, Astarion entered the tavern, where the Bull and his Chargers were currently stationed. They sat together, enjoying themselves and sharing drinks. Upon spotting Astarion, Bull grinned and beckoned him over.
"Ah, good! We're not drinking alone," Bull remarked, gesturing towards his Chargers. "I wanted to introduce you to the Chargers, at least the ones here right now. Some of them went off in search of stronger spirits," he added. "We've got Rocky and Skinner here. Over there are Stitches, Dalish, and Grim. A wild bunch of misfits, but they're my crew," Bull explained.
Astarion nodded politely. "Charmed," he said.
"Rocky is our top sapper. He can demolish enemy fortifications faster than a golem," Bull boasted, pointing to Rocky.
"I'm also working on my own version of Qunari blackpowder. Almost got it!" Rocky exclaimed.
"Yeah... not quite," Bull chuckled.
Curious, Astarion asked, "What's Qunari blackpowder?"
"It's an extremely explosive powder, a closely guarded secret known only to the Qunari. It detonates without the need for magic," Bull explained.
"Oh, so it's akin to smokepowder then?" Astarion asked, his cultural insight failing him one again.
"Smokepowder? Can't say I've ever heard of it," Bull replied.
"It's a fine, black powder that explodes. Typically stored in wooden barrels, and if you happen to ignite one of those barrels, well, the whole area goes up in flames," Astarion explained.
"That... does sound remarkably similar to blackpowder, yeah. You seem quite well-versed in it. Where have you come across smokepowder before?" Bull asked, casting a suspicious glance Astarion's way. Even the other Chargers in the vicinity wore expressions of confusion or surprise.
Astarion realized he had said something amiss once again, given the suspicious looks all around him. While he didn't quite understand why smokepowder was raising eyebrows, he sensed the need to fabricate a story. "In Tevinter... someone I knew had a significant supply of it," Astarion smoothly lied.
Bull scrutinized Astarion's expression but found no obvious signs of deceit. "So, you're telling me there's someone in Tevinter with a stockpile of blackpowder?" Bull repeated.
"Yes... I wasn't aware it was such a closely guarded secret," Astarion replied, maintaining his lie.
"Who is it? That's some… concerning news," Bull said.
"I never learned his name," Astarion replied.
Bull caught on to his deception this time. It was clear that Astarion knew more than he was letting on about the subject, but Bull decided not to press further. "That's too bad. Anyway, this is Skinner," he said, gesturing to her.
"So, how did you end up joining the Chargers?" Astarion inquired, glad for the shift in conversation.
"I killed some people," Skinner replied bluntly.
"Ah, how... entertaining," Astarion quipped.
The rest of the Chargers continued to introduce themselves, and Astarion got to hear snippets of each member's stories. It was evident that Bull held a deep affection for each of them. After the introductions concluded, Bull got up. "I'm going to grab another drink," he announced, walking away. Most of the other Chargers began chatting among themselves, leaving Astarion seated beside Krem.
"Don't pay him too much mind. I know he's got a tough exterior, but you'll warm up to him," Krem said to Astarion, attempting to initiate a conversation.
"Marvelous. We could always use a hulking brute to dispatch our enemies," Astarion replied.
Krem nodded. "So... I heard you're also originally from Tevinter," he began.
"If by 'originally' you mean enslaved and forcibly confined there, then yes," Astarion retorted, feigning anger in his tone, hoping to deter any further discussion on the topic.
"I'm sorry. I can only imagine how difficult that must have been," Krem offered sympathetically.
"You truly have no idea, " Astarion replied.
"Well... for what it's worth, I'm glad you made it out. No one should endure slavery, but I'm glad you found your way out. If you ever need someone to talk to..." Krem started.
Astarion promptly interrupted him. "I'd sooner chew off my own foot," he retorted rudely. He rose from his seat and walked away from Krem and the Chargers. Their inquiries were becoming a bit too probing for his liking, and he had no intention of spending the entire evening fabricating stories.
As he approached the exit of the tavern, Astarion spotted the inebriated man who had thrown a mug at him when he had first arrived at Haven. This time, however, the man had a group of companions with him.
The man seemed to notice Astarion. "Oh, look! It's our esteemed Herald," he jeered, spitting in Astarion's direction.
"You're still here? I thought you would have drowned in a puddle of your own drunken urine by now. How… disappointing ," Astarion shot back.
"Oh, shut up! We know what you truly are, you filthy fucking demon. That's why no one should trust a damned knife-ear!" the man shouted at Astarion.
Another one of the man's friends decided to pitch into the conversation too. "Yea, you might have charmed your way up to the top of the Inquisition, but you won't charm us, demon. I'll fucking kill you if you dare even come near us, or our families. What's left of our families anyways, after you murdered them all with other demons from the breach! I swear I will get my revenge, if it's the last thing I do!"
Astarion's mouth dropped agape momentarily, stunned and speechless. He hadn't expected them to be so openly vocal about their accusations. Shaking off his shock, he began to respond but was interrupted when a large hand settled on his shoulder. Looking up, Astarion saw Bull towering over him.
"You. Out," Bull commanded, pointing toward the group and motioning towards the exit.
"Yeah, whatever. Let's get out of here. I don't want to linger near that demon anyway," the initial man grumbled, then exited the bar, followed by his companions.
"I didn't need you rushing in to rescue me, you know. I'm quite capable of handling them on my own," Astarion remarked to Bull.
"I don't doubt that," Bull acknowledged, "but you're the Herald, and it wouldn't look good to incite a brawl in front of all these people. Besides, you're paying me to keep you safe. You looked like you recognized those troublemakers, anyways. Have they given you problems before?" Bull asked.
"I've had the pleasure of meeting the guy in the middle before—the one who spoke first. He was intoxicated and hurled a mug at my head," Astarion replied candidly.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure you never see them again," Bull assured him.
"Are… are you going to kill them? Can I watch?" Astarion asked, a little hint of excitement in his voice.
Bull clarified, his expression showing slight concern, "No, I meant I'll escort them out of Haven, with your spymaster's approval."
"Oh, well, that's unimaginative. But, whatever," Astarion remarked nonchalantly.
"You should go get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be a long day. Cassandra told me I could accompany you when you meet with the mages, as long as you're fine with it," Bull mentioned.
"Fine, you can come," Astarion agreed. He realized that he'd need to exercise more caution with his vampirism, but he couldn't deny the usefulness of having the Iron Bull around.
"Fantastic. I'll see you tomorrow morning then. Give me a heads up if that group bothers you again," Bull said, patting Astarion's shoulder gently.
"Will do," Astarion replied before leaving the tavern and stepping back onto the street. Despite saying he was going to rest, he had other plans. While he had vowed not to feed on the blood of the innocent, the racist drunk hardly qualified as "innocent." No one would miss him if he vanished. Sure, his friends might accuse Astarion of killing him, but they were all intoxicated, and their claims wouldn't be taken seriously, especially after their overtly offensive remarks in the tavern.
Astarion discreetly trailed the inebriated man to his residence—the same man who had thrown a mug at him some time ago. He had warned the man before about the consequences of his actions, but unfortunately, the man hadn't taken him seriously enough. Astarion waited until the man was sound asleep in his bedroll before making his move. Ensuring no one was watching, he stealthily entered the man's tent, silently maneuvering past his slumbering form.
The man stirred, an instinctual sense of danger coursing through him. His eyes snapped open to find Astarion looming over him. Panic welled up in him, and he began to open his mouth to scream, but Astarion acted swiftly, clamping his hand over the man's lips to stifle any noise.
"Shh, hush now. No need for a fuss. You knew this day would come," Astarion whispered, his fangs ominously revealed.
In a desperate attempt, the man tried to push Astarion away, his terror palpable, but his efforts were in vain. Astarion sank his fangs into the man's neck, and the sweet taste of blood began to flow. The man never stood a chance against Astarion's strength and hunger. The man gradually weakened, his struggles fading until he finally succumbed to the inevitable.
Astarion greedily consumed the blood, reveling in the exhilaration of ending someone's life. He savored the warmth of the blood on his tongue, feeling the man's heartbeat slow as their lives intertwined. He felt a strange mixture of satisfaction and disappointment as the blood ceased to flow, marking the man's death.
Once finished, Astarion sat up, wiping the blood from his lips and grappling with the guilt of willfully taking a life. He knew what he had done was wrong, yet he couldn't deny the perverse enjoyment it had brought him. Standing up carefully, he contemplated how to conceal the lifeless body but was interrupted by an unexpected wave of euphoria washing over him. He giggled and staggered toward the tent's entrance.
"I'm... I'm drunk ," he mumbled to himself, recognizing the sensation in his head—a feeling he hadn't experienced in over two centuries, yet one that was strangely nostalgic.
Astarion ventured out of the tent, making a valiant effort to remain upright. He grinned, seemingly unable to stop himself from smiling, but the challenge of hiding the body now loomed large. His drunken search for a suitable hiding place was interrupted when he spotted a man approaching him. "Oh, Krem! What brings you out so late?" Astarion slurred, his speech noticeably unsteady.
"Astarion? Are you... drunk ?" Krem asked incredulously. "Damn," he muttered, moving closer to Astarion and grasping his arm to steady him. "Chief is a fool for leaving you alone after what happened. I knew we should have stayed with you."
"I'm... perfectly fine," Astarion protested, though he leaned far too heavily to one side for Krem's liking.
"No, you're not. Ugh... I don't even know where you're supposed to sleep. Come on, you're coming with me," Krem insisted, gripping Astarion's arm and guiding him toward a different cluster of tents.
"Where are you taking me?" Astarion inquired in his drunken stupor.
"Chief's tent. You're his problem for the night," Krem informed Astarion, continuing to walk with the stumbling vampire. Astarion couldn't help but find the absurdity of the situation somewhat amusing, even though he was helpless to do anything about it. The world was spinning around him, and the effects of the alcohol were undeniable. He made a mental note to exercise caution in the future, particularly when considering biting an alcoholic.
Krem led him to Bull's tent, where Bull promptly stepped outside. "What happened to him?" Bull asked, looking at Krem for an explanation.
"Dunno, Chief. Found him stumbling like this. Not sure where he normally sleeps," Krem responded.
"Bring him in. He can stay with me tonight," Bull ordered.
Astarion wanted to object, but Bull firmly grabbed his arm and guided him into the tent. Even in his intoxicated state, he understood that he couldn't deal with the dead body while Bull was present.
"Quit resisting, Astarion. I'm just getting you settled in for the night. You've had more than enough to drink," Bull said, lifting Astarion with ease and placing him down gently on a bedroll. "Sleep, Astarion. Don't try to wander off again, or I'll know. I'll be right outside," Bull added before exiting the tent.
Astarion internally cursed as he realized he had little choice but to abandon his plans for the night. He had been caught, and his inebriation rendered any attempt to move discreetly out of the question. He lay on the bedroll, the buzz of the alcohol coursing through him, waiting for it to subside.
The following morning, Bull returned to the tent and roused Astarion from his meditative slumber. "Boss. You alive?" Bull asked.
Astarion sat up, surveying his surroundings and the weight of the previous night's events settling on his shoulders. "Is that supposed to be a joke?" he retorted to Bull.
Bull shrugged. "You could've drunk yourself to death. Had to check."
Astarion rolled his eyes. "Really? And when was the last time you actually witnessed someone succumbing to excessive drinking?"
"Last night, apparently. I went to speak with Leliana about those people, but it turns out one of them was found dead in their tent, from alcohol poisoning, according to Leliana," Bull stated, his tone tinged with suspicion. Bull couldn't shake the feeling that the timing of Astarion's drunken wandering and the man's death was far too convenient. He was leaning toward the belief that Astarion harbored a dark secret—one that Leliana seemed willing to cover up. It was an intriguing mystery, and Bull was determined to unravel it by keeping a close eye on Astarion.
"Oh, really ? That's... convenient. What about the others who were with him?" Astarion inquired, a wave of relief washing over him upon hearing that the death had been attributed to alcohol poisoning. However, he suspected that if Leliana had discovered the body, she might be quite angry with him for taking a life. He decided to steer clear of her before their upcoming trip, though he couldn't deny his gratitude for her discretion.
"The others were kicked out of Haven this morning. You won't be seeing them again. How are you feeling, anyway? You were pretty drunk last night," Bull observed, genuine concern in his voice.
"I'm feeling perfectly fine, thank you. I simply overindulged a bit last night, that's all," Astarion replied.
"Well, you should avoid excessive drinking, especially if you're feeling down or angry. It won't help, and it's clear you can't handle it well," Bull advised, his concern evident.
"Fine, I won't do it again," Astarion promised as he felt Bull's penetrating gaze. "Now, shouldn't we be off on our adventure? We're supposed to find mages and close the breach," he suggested.
"Yes, so get up and get changed. Everyone's waiting for you," Bull instructed.
"Right, I'll be back in a moment," Astarion acknowledged, heading back to his own quarters. He changed into fresh clothes and armor, gathered his belongings, and then returned to Bull's tent, where Varric and Solas were also waiting.
When Solas noticed Astarion approaching, he gave him a knowing look. "I heard someone died last night," he said, his tone slightly accusatory.
Astarion casually shrugged it off. "He was a drunken racist. I'm sure no one will miss him. I certainly won't," he replied.
"We should simply exercise caution and watch our actions," Solas advised.
"If this is about how much I drank last night, don't worry. It won't happen again," Astarion assured him, his words carrying a hidden meaning.
"I would hope so. Although, you're right; it's probably for the best that he's gone. No one would have welcomed his presence, anyway," Solas remarked, displaying a lack of genuine concern for Astarion's actions.
"Excellent! Well, this has been a real chinwag, but how about we hit the road to Redcliffe?" Varric suggested, trying to get the group in motion.
"I agree. Let's set out," Astarion concurred, taking the lead as the group left Haven behind.
The journey to Redcliffe was estimated to take only a few days, and Astarion had sated his thirst the previous night, so he anticipated not needing more blood until they arrived at their destination. Consequently, there was no worry about Bull catching him sneaking off during the night, preserving his secret for the time being. However, Astarion couldn't deny that he should disclose the truth to Bull sooner rather than later, especially since the rest of the close-knit group already knew. He didn't want to, though, because he remained uncertain about whether he trusted Bull enough for that revelation.
Bull, on the other hand, absolutely didn't place any trust in Astarion anymore. He had picked up on Solas's accusatory tone, effectively solidifying his suspicions that Astarion was responsible for the death of the drunken man from the previous night. Now, all he needed to do was find a way to coax Astarion into revealing his well-guarded secret.