( It is a request that doesn't surprise her -- Cazador has worked at expanding his influence wherever he sees fit, and while he does not follow her Father, nor he seem to follow any god at all, they'd be fools to turn down having a vampire lord within easy reach. The conditions for his... alliance are unconventional, to be sure. But perhaps -- given how old Cazador must be -- the old fashioned approach isn't unexpected.
Which is how Haelva ends up with a vampire spawn... 'consort', in the vampire's words. It leaves a bad taste in her mouth, the part of her that was herself before Bhaal had come to call and take what he was owed. But that part of her is small, insignificant compared to the Dark Urge that she is. Now, however, she is slicing open her forearm, letting the blood gather in a goblet, watching him do the same. Cazador had assured her that this would make it so the spawn couldn't turn on her -- that she would have some control over him, and he would be bound to her. It's no magic she knows of, but neither has she had the time nor the inclination to study blood magic, preferring to spend her time with corpses -- those she's killed and those she's raised.
But a simple check of the magic reveals it does what Cazador said it would, and nothing more -- that's enough for her. )
Do you have a name?
( She asks, aware that he'd only been referred to as 'boy' and 'spawn' by Cazador. )
[ Astarion is uncomfortable, but that's a familiar sensation; he's well versed in doing what his sire commands, in Cazador telling him to do something or fetch him a meal and knowing there is nothing he can do to avoid it. He goes where he is told, and if he tries to resist, he knows the kind of punishment he would receive.
Watching the exchange take place, the knowledge that control will pass from one to the other, but it doesn't make him feel any better. One cruel owner is the same as another, and he doesn't expect anyone to be kind to their spawn; that is not the role they're designed for. They're servants, slaves, and that is how things will continue. He has lost the will and strength for any kind of optimism in his life.
He doesn't feel the bond shift, but he can feel the moment when he is connected to her rather than Cazador, and the sick feeling of dread in his stomach emerges again. What kind of monstrosity could this woman be, and what impossible tasks will a creature so linked to Bhaal demand of him?
Lifting his head, knowing better than to ignore being spoken to, he breathes out sharply through his fangs. ]
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Which is how Haelva ends up with a vampire spawn... 'consort', in the vampire's words. It leaves a bad taste in her mouth, the part of her that was herself before Bhaal had come to call and take what he was owed. But that part of her is small, insignificant compared to the Dark Urge that she is. Now, however, she is slicing open her forearm, letting the blood gather in a goblet, watching him do the same. Cazador had assured her that this would make it so the spawn couldn't turn on her -- that she would have some control over him, and he would be bound to her. It's no magic she knows of, but neither has she had the time nor the inclination to study blood magic, preferring to spend her time with corpses -- those she's killed and those she's raised.
But a simple check of the magic reveals it does what Cazador said it would, and nothing more -- that's enough for her. )
Do you have a name?
( She asks, aware that he'd only been referred to as 'boy' and 'spawn' by Cazador. )
Watching the exchange take place, the knowledge that control will pass from one to the other, but it doesn't make him feel any better. One cruel owner is the same as another, and he doesn't expect anyone to be kind to their spawn; that is not the role they're designed for. They're servants, slaves, and that is how things will continue. He has lost the will and strength for any kind of optimism in his life.
He doesn't feel the bond shift, but he can feel the moment when he is connected to her rather than Cazador, and the sick feeling of dread in his stomach emerges again. What kind of monstrosity could this woman be, and what impossible tasks will a creature so linked to Bhaal demand of him?
Lifting his head, knowing better than to ignore being spoken to, he breathes out sharply through his fangs. ]
Astarion, at your service.