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justcallmefox89 · 1 month

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Gnome Troubles Part IV (Astarion's POV)

TW: violence, blood, very brief allusions to Astarion's time with Cazador, short instance of Astarion's gnome racism

That smirk would be handsome on someone taller.

Astarion shakes off the errant thought as Wicket leaps from the tree, landing noiselessly in front of him. He takes a wary step back, realizing there is more to this necrobane than initially meets the eye. The vampire stumbles over a rock, losing his footing as Wicket lunges at him with a speed that rivals his own. Astarion manages to deflect the first blow, hissing as one of the stakes gouges into the pale flesh of his forearm. Wicket dodges behind him, driving his fist into Astarion’s lower back as his heel makes contact with the back of the elf’s knee.

Astarion crumples to the ground and makes an attempt to crawl away, but Wicket snatches his ankle and pulls him closer before pouncing on top of him. Astarion begins to panic at the weight pining him down as Wicket straddles his waist and raises a stake over his heart.

Groping hands in the dark… foul breath… rough, unwanted touches… the smell of unwashed bodies and sour ale…

Astarion bucks beneath Wicket, attempting to throw him off, and the stake misses its mark, stabbing into the soft dirt next to his head.

“Hold still, abomination!” Wicket snarls, scrabbling for the second stake and struggling to hold him down.

Not again, not again, not again, not again…

Astarion struggles wildly, caught in his memories like an insect in amber, barely aware of Wicket’s rough voice cursing in Gnim as he fights to retain his hold on him. Then… a blinding light and indescribable pain… Astarion is forcibly pulled from his memories and thrust into another’s.

Fire surrounds him, the smoke thick and choking… the wails of the dying mingle with the screams of children… Blood soaks the forest floor, glowing in the firelight… A single voice rises above the din – a small child crying out for her father…

“Get out of my head!” Wicket screams, drawing Astarion back into the present. The gnome is wild-eyed and sweating, silver-streaked hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks, his skin nearly as pale as Astarion’s. Taking advantage of his distress Astarion shoves him away and rolls to his feet, drawing his dagger.

Wicket staggers to his feet, still disoriented, with a stake in his hand and clearly still ready to fight. “What’s wrong with you?” he slurs.

“What?” Astarion asks, dumbfounded.

“Hands are shaking… scared… felt it with the worm…”

Astarion scowls. Apparently the tadpole had allowed Wicket a peek into his mind too. “Most people tend to be shaken when someone attempts to assassinate them, darling.”

The necrobane snorts, clearly not believing the lie. “As you say.” A pause. “Why are you so weak?”

“I beg your pardon?” Astarion stares down at the gnome in disgust. “Weak?”

Wicket stares back at him, expressionless.

Astarion lets out an annoyed huff. “If you must know, my master kept my diet very… controlled.”

“Explain.”

“Rats! Vermin! The occasional kobold!” The vampire throws his hands up in exasperation. “And only in small amounts, just enough to keep us alive but not strong enough to rebel.”

Wicket hums in contemplation and thinks a moment before darting off to his tent. His back before Astarion can object, goblet in hand.

“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, taking a wary step back.

Wicket tilts his head to the side and takes a moment to collect his thoughts. “I don’t know what is going to happen or what potential dangers we will face as a result of our tadpoles. And leaving you alive could prove to be useful.”

The elf narrows his eyes in disbelief.

“If,” Wicket holds up one finger. “And only if you can keep your fangs to yourself… I’m willing to forgo my oath.”

“Of course, darling,” Astarion replies with a charming smirk. “This little venture will be so much easier if we’re all friends.”

But the very moment it appears you’re going to turn on me I will drink you.

Wicket grunts, looking like he already regrets his decision. As a curious Astarion watches he rolls up the sleeve of his shirt, then draws a small dagger from a hidden sheath in his boot. Wicket grits his teeth and braces himself, then slices a deep gash across his forearm. Before a drop of blood can hit the ground, Wicket has the goblet beneath the wound, catching each gloriously enticing drop.

The heady smell of the gnome’s blood has Astarion’s eyelids fluttering, and a small gasp escapes his lips. He briefly considers crossing the few feet that separate them and licking up the blood that drips down Wicket’s arm; finally gorging himself on the sustenance he’s so long been denied. Then his lip curls in disgust at the very thought. Gnomish blood is acceptable, but to actually press his lips to the flesh of one of the little beasts? He shudders at the very thought.

No, better to wait and see exactly what he’s up to.

After several long minutes the goblet is nearly full. Wicket whispers a few words of healing, and his wound closes up as if it were never there. He’s pale and clearly lightheaded from the blood loss, but somehow manages to remain standing.

“Here,” he mutters thrusting the goblet into Astarion’s eager hands. “We’re going to need you at full strength if you’re going to be any use to us. Don’t make me regret this.”

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baldinggoat · 3 years

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Now that we're talking about game criticism. I also have an Opinion: Anyone who criticizes Shadowheart and Lae'Zel for being racist, ignoring their backgrounds and upbringing, while being completely fine with Astarion's racism, such as towards the Gur people, the kobolds (who are in fact, intelligent beings, not just "animals"), as well as his comments about orcs (I think there's a line he says "empty as an orc's skull" when you click on an empty box), etc. Or Gale and his Rashemi comment when he first met us (Rashemi are actual ethnic human group in this setting, I think?) Are operating on a very different and questionable standards. Now I'm not excusing racism, even fantastical ones, and I am of an opinion that making atleast 5 of your companions racist kinda... blegh (especially when it's treated as something quirky and not, you know, an actual thing that should be addressed). However, excusing certain characters their immoral behavior but at the same time dragging other characters down kinda reveal a double standard in the fandom as well.

The dialogue about kobolds made me laugh just bc i know someone who loves their kobold oc dearly and astarions random hatred towards them threw me off and felt comical since i’m like, i guess pro-kobold? its this long train of thought. Basically, i only know ppl who play dnd that are lgbt/POC, so theyre more likely to play more...unusual characters types (like kobold) compared to the “norm”. And i forget, i always forget, cishet white men are actually the ones running mainstream dnd. I forget until someones says like “i hate kobolds” or “tieflings are inherently untrustworthy” or “i play a human fighter” and then im like oh riiiiiiight... those types of people exist huh

The weirdest dialogue that made me Cringe Real Hard was when youre talking to wyll (whos the only black companion so far) and you can tell him he “reaks of privilege”. Ive read some articles about how theres a reoccurring trope of like, making white and alien characters have to deal with fantasy racism, while making the black characters either rich and “privileged” and/or fantasy racist themselves. It reminded me of that. Im guessing it could be considered that trope, actually.

I can already tell what kinda bad shit is going to happen in fandom spaces. Hense why, i dont want to tag anything. I just want to chill and love tieflings in my corner.

#/goat noises

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