[Truly, it appears for a moment that his heroic effort to push Winter out of the way of danger will be moot. The eyestalks of the spectator glow a deep and terrible red, and they’re sitting ducks — because the warlock decides to step in the way of it, as though to provide Astarion extra cover.
The vampire tries to sit up straighter, palm pushing against the ground and biting back the pain.]
What are you doing?! You’ll—
[—be hurt. And this time, I can’t do anything to help you.
But suddenly, the air around them both shimmers. They’re there, staring down an eye of an angry monster about to blast them into ashes, probably, and then—
They’re suddenly elsewhere. Right next to a startled Shadowheart, if his ears don’t deceive him, and Astarion has to blow past another wave of disorientation before he understands what Winter’s just done.
(“Understand” is a bit of a stretch. Warlock nonsense, probably.)]
Ugh, gods… [A hand reaches to press against his side, and Astarion tries his damndest to push himself up to his feet. It’s a precarious affair.] Warn me, next time.
no subject
The vampire tries to sit up straighter, palm pushing against the ground and biting back the pain.]
What are you doing?! You’ll—
[—be hurt. And this time, I can’t do anything to help you.
But suddenly, the air around them both shimmers. They’re there, staring down an eye of an angry monster about to blast them into ashes, probably, and then—
They’re suddenly elsewhere. Right next to a startled Shadowheart, if his ears don’t deceive him, and Astarion has to blow past another wave of disorientation before he understands what Winter’s just done.
(“Understand” is a bit of a stretch. Warlock nonsense, probably.)]
Ugh, gods… [A hand reaches to press against his side, and Astarion tries his damndest to push himself up to his feet. It’s a precarious affair.] Warn me, next time.