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A criminal made their intents well-known, but pleasantries were always hiding something underneath.
Tav, he assumed, was no different. Nobody was that nice for no reason. I mean, come on, picking up six complete strangers and offering them food and shelter out of what - the goodness of their heart? That just didn’t make sense. Tav wanted something, he knew it, Astarion just hadn’t quite figured out what. It was far too early to tell, so for now the most Astarion could do was keep his distance and observe. And when the other shoe did eventually drop; well, he at least had his new guard-beastie for as long as he could keep that fish hooked.
Speaking of; Philios had been nowhere to be found since Tav had ordered everyone to make camp for the night. It had been a while since then; the muted colors of dusk fully turned over to nighttime. Astarion did find himself in slight awe of it; though he tried not to make his interest too obvious. He remained laying on the ground, tilting his head up to watch what he could of the sunset before it completely vanished from his current viewpoint.
Tav was busy stirring a soup pot above a bonfire, and the camp smelled pleasantly of spices. It was nice, honestly, and for a minute Astarion had forgotten about Philios and his sudden absence.
Technically, with the law of safety in numbers, if Philios had decided that he was too good for the comforts of modern man and vanished for good, Astarion couldn’t be too beat up about it. But, again, he still wasn’t sure what sort of grounds he stood on with the lot of them. Philios was at least predictable. Predictable, and too stupid to deceive him.
The quiet air was suddenly broken by the familiar heavy crunching of foliage. Astarion craned his neck towards the noise, seeing Philios slowly plod out from the copse of trees at the edge of camp. He was on all fours again, a freshly killed deer was held firmly in his mouth. It’s glassy eyes frozen forever in an expression of terror, it’s body bloodied and limp.
From the corner of his eye, Astarion caught Shadowheart tensing. It brought a smile to his face. Good, well at least he knew now where
Tav, however, seemed completely nonplussed. In fact, as Philios re-emerged from the trees - they looked positively furious.
"Where have you been!" Tav called out, crossing their arms like a scolding mother. "You’ve been gone for hours!"
Philios tilted his head to look in their direction. He was holding the corpse by the neck, the majority of his face was smeared in blood. He made a slow blink, before turning away to continue dragging his carcass across the campsite. It was to a mix of disgust and frustrated horror that Astarion realized Philios was bringing that deer in
"Hey! Hello! I know you have ears, they’re too big to miss them!" Tav walked away from their soup to chase Philios down. "Put that thing down! I have real food cooking! You’ll get worms, the last thing you need is more worms!"
Philios dropped the dead dear in front of Astarion’s tent. Blissfully, away from the very pretty rug he had picked out. It was clear, now, the reason that it’s head had been tilting so severely; it’s entire neck had been torn out. Philios’s mouth may as well have been the only thing holding it in place. Where it’s throat had once been was only a gaping hole and the grisly-yellow remains of a spine; the only thing keeping it’s skull attached to it’s body.
Astarion’s stomach turned as it hit him that very nearly was him. That’s what he could’ve looked like if things had not gone so swimmingly. He tried to look away from it, if only to get that image out of his head. As least it was a prey animal and not a human; so there was actually a point
the Philios cannibalism theory.
Philios settled himself down at the ground next to his kill. Legs tucked in like a cat, tail wrapped around his haunches. Tav stormed up to him, reaching down to pull on one of his larger horns. "At least cook the damn thing."
Philios’s head was pulled back, and he snarled. Tav made a mock of his expression, baring his teeth to snarl right back.
And, while, Astarion usually
a bloodbath. He had literally just gotten here. He wanted to at least enjoy his comfy tent for one night before everything went to shit. So for the sake of preventing Philios from lashing out at their oh so gracious host, he stepped in.
"Oh, let the man have his treats." Astarion sighed, "We’ve all had quite a day today; surely eating raw meat pales in comparison to anything that happened to us on that ship. Besides; I’m not going to try and pry it out of his mouth, are you?"
Tav considered it for a minute, looking down at the man who was growling at them. His jaws were made for biting down and not letting go; if that was not obvious by the shape of his teeth, then it was obvious by the state of the deer. Tav scrunched up their nose in frustration, sighing and letting go of the horn.
"Fine, just this once. But when you get sick, don’t come crying to me about how your tummy hurts!"
Philios made a grunt. He braced one hand against the carcass’s middle as he wrapped his jaws around one hind leg; the limb came off in one clean tear. More blood splattered his face as he tucked into the meatiest part of it’s hip.
The smell of fresh blood was starting to get to Astarion. It made him dizzy, reminded him of how long it had been since he’d fed properly. He brought his goblet up to his mouth, with the wine in it he wasn’t actually drinking, hoping the bitter scent would at least distract his nose.
"Quite controlling, that one, aren’t they?"
Philios loudly swallowed, his mouth making some rather disgusting noises as he ran his tongue around to try to dislodge a piece that had gotten stuck between his teeth.
"Mmm..." He hummed in agreement. "Like this, tastes better..."
"You’ve a preference for things on the rarer side, eh?" Astarion asked, giving a calculated toothy grin. (Not enough to show, enough to make him look smarmy). "How alike we are! It does have a rather distinct flavor to it, doesn’t it? Firing it for too long just deprives it of all the juicy bits."
Philios was standing up again, and Astarion began to wonder if the man was not one for someone yammering his ear off when he was trying to enjoy his food.
He let out a shocked, shrill squeak when something very
was dropped into his lap. He looked down to see that the deer had been deprived of it’s other hind leg; which was now resting quite squarely on his lap. (And he had liked these pants...) Astarion had long since become numb to blood, gore, and body parts - but gods, he had
limits. He looked up, only to be met with Philios’s expectant face.
"O-Oh!" Astarion pretended to be flattered. "Is this for me? You shouldn’t have."
Philios nodded, "Sharing...you are hungry..."
Well, Philios wasn’t
, persay, but...
"How..." Astarion grimaced, pinching the hoof between his fingers and lifting it up. "Very, uh, sweet of you."
Tav’s cackling laughter could be heard all the way from their spot near the firepit. "Don’t tell me I have to worry about the both of you chasing tapeworms!" They called out. There was a clink of metal as they gestured with their soup ladle to the pot, which was now gently steaming and off of the fire. "Dinner’s done, if you’d like to stick with just the one worm in your head!"
Astarion could see that the rest of camp had already gotten their shares and returned to their respective corners. Not friendly enough to want to stick around for over dinner chat, it seemed. He could hardly blame them.
Oh, except for Gale, who had gotten an extra helping in his bowl and sat on a log next to the fire. He’d probably been babbling the poor tiefling’s ear off about something useless, if Astarion was a betting man. The wizard cast a smile in his direction and waved.
"You should join us! We’d love the company!"
Astarion very much didn’t. Asides, the sight of the savory mushroom soup was making him far more nauseous than the disembodied cervid leg was. When it had been disconnected spices and heat in the air, it had been pleasant, but now that it was a full meal - the scent of it only made him sick.
Human food always did this to him, ever since he’d learned what it meant to partake of it post his transformation. There’d been more than one occasion in which he’d eaten a little bit of human food to sell a story, or make a particular illusion. It always ended the same; him on his hands and knees the night after, retching all of it back up. Stomach clenching until his eyes filled with tears and he was quite certain his organs were trying to escape through his mouth. He didn’t produce bile anymore, so it all came up dry; turned his throat to sandpaper as he tried to mentally will it to stop.
Astarion swallowed thickly, clearing his throat.
"I think I’ll pass." He said with a wry smile, "I’ve not really gotten my appetite back since seeing that ghastly inside of a nautiloid. Besides, I’ve already been given an offering by my very vicious friend here."
Astarion gave Philios a scratch between the horns for emphasis. Philios had gone back to his deer at this point, but he bumped his head up into Astarion’s touch when he felt it. Rumbling like the world’s scariest cat. Oh that...that was kind of cute, actually. Astarion briefly forgot that he was doing this sarcastically, as his hand traveled down to rub at Philios’s jaw.
Tav sighed, shaking their head as they poured their own serving of soup; taking a sit on the log across from Gale. Who Astarion thought might explode if he went on any longer having to hold his thought. "The soup will be here if you change your mind, I’ll keep the fire going until all of us go to bed. Don’t want to attract bears."
"Thank you, darling, you’re far too kind." Astarion had no intent of taking up that offer.
The deer leg, on the other hand. Hm.
Hypothetically, he
feed from it. It bled as much as a whole animal would. Though most of that blood had already leaked out onto his lap. It would be far from the worst thing he’d ever fed from, gods knew - and maybe it was just the gnawing pit in his stomach, but it did smell very...good. It would draw too many questions though, wouldn’t it? Everyone here was expecting him to throw the leg away, or politely return it to Philios. Philios eating raw meat was one thing; he was a dumb wild animal. Astarion, though? Astarion was refined, prim and proper. He would never! The only thing raw he would ever eat was steak tartare, thank you.
Blood was blood though, no matter the source or the surrounding circumstances. He was not about to forget that. Astarion gathered up the hind leg in his arms, standing up from his pillows (trying not to stain the rug). Probably best to not wait until any more of that precious blood spilled out of it.
Philios looked up again, tilting his head. "Where are you going...?"
The first full sentence Astarion had heard from him. Good for him, gold star.
"Oh, not far, just into the tent." Astarion nodded towards it, "I’m a little bit - precious about how I eat. Don’t really like being watched, makes me feel judged. Surely you understand? The others weren’t exactly kind about your own eating habits."
Philios stared for a few moments more, but never did he question it. He licked his chops and shoved the remnants of the carcass away from him. He looked a bloody mess; his face was absolutely covered, paws too. His long, blond hair was sticky and matted together at the ends like a dye job gone wrong. Hopefully he’d at least have the sense to take a dip in the river at some point.
He stood up only to adjust his position ever so slightly closer to the entryway of Astarion’s tent. Pacing in a circle before curling up on the ground again.
"Go eat." Philios insisted, folding his arms under his chin. "Will...keep watch."
"What a dutiful little watchdog." Astarion said quickly, he did not want to waste any more precious time than he already had, he could feel the deer bleeding out against his shirt.
He retreated fully into his tent, making sure the flap was securely shut before he sat down. He listened until he was quite certain nobody was paying too much attention to his little corner of the camp; and only then did he bring the flank of the deer into his mouth. He hooked his fangs into the flesh and drank, sighing into the short fur.
Was it good food? No. But was it food? Yes, and that was enough. It probably would’ve been better had he been allowed to drink directly from a jugular, but - well - there weren’t really many of those left by time Philios had been done with it.
It was enough to tide him over for a while, and that’s all he could ask for. So he wasn’t complaining, he would never complain about being allowed to feed.
He wondered, vaguely, if there might’ve been a way to get Philios to agree to hunt for him. Or, at least; allow him to get his fill from the things Philios was out killing anyways. It wasn’t as if it would be that much of a bother, he’d let Philios have the rest of it!
But there wasn’t really a non-suspicious way to bring that idea up to anyone, even if he wasn’t entirely sure Philios knew what a vampire
. He’d have to think about it some more, as otherwise Astarion would have to hunt for himself. And he wasn’t sure how well he could do that.
The deer leg eventually ran dry, even as Astarion stayed latched onto it and kept trying to wring more out. But the hunk of meat had given all it wanted to give; Astarion couldn’t force it to give him anything more. He brought the collar of his shirt up to wipe his mouth, and pondered if he could actually suck back out what had stained his clothing. He quickly mentally slapped himself.
He wrapped the dried out meat up in a blanket, setting it away in the corner for now. He would wait until it was later in the night, when everyone else was asleep, to sneak out into the woods and rid of it so as to not cause any suspicion.
It was some time before Astarion could no longer smell embers, and he parted the folds of his tent to peer outside. The camp had quieted down significantly at this point, the only thing being heard was the sound of bugs and heavy breathing. Astarion wished there was more to say, but there also wasn’t much he could see; as his view was blocked out by a very large, very scaly lump.
Philios was still in front of his tent; he had not moved an inch. He was curled up like a hibernating bear, looking to be in deep slumber. There was enough distance between him and the tent that Astarion had enough room to climb out and step around him if need be; but close enough that no one would dare step too close, lest they wished for their ankles to be caught in the bear trap that was Philios’s jaws.
There was a stirring, somewhere deep, deep in his chest, seeing Philios had kept his word of reverently guarding him. But Astarion had to remind himself that it meant nothing; Philios was a creature of instinct, a dumb animal. He was only protecting Astarion because he pet his chin in a way he liked and said pretty words. All of that rage and aggression that Astarion oh-so admired could just as easily be turned against him. It almost had been, it had almost been his end.
But, for the night, Astarion was protected, and he couldn’t help but feel a little sentimental about it. He wasn’t going to scorn the scrap of grace he’d been thrown. He let his tent flaps fall shut, laced them tightly, and went back in to sit on his bedroll. He hid the exsanguinated deer leg under one of his many silk pillows, deciding it was a problem for future Astarion. He found a blanket and pulled it up to his neck, eyes slipping shut as he fell into trance.
Knowing that nothing would dare come for him that night, he slept better than he had in years.
"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. Now, repeat that back to me."
"Quick...brr...br raa- " Philios’s vocal cords strained as they tried to form the unfamiliar sound. "Brahn-"
"No, no. Ow-n. Ou-n." Gale pointed at his mouth, making an exaggerated motion as he slowly sounded it out. "It’s a tricky one! Sort of like a "u’, sort of not. Common tends to make up rules on the fly, it’s a horrible amalgam of almost every language under the sun- and some without the sun. Can’t forget our fellows who live deep in the Underdark."
Philios made a small hm sound, rubbing his finger against his throat as he tried to train it to replicate the noises coming from Gale’s mouth.
The party had been on the road for about a week now. Six days ago, they’d learned that the tadpoles were supposed to turn them into monsters. Or at least it was news to some of them - Astarion, for sure, felt a knot of worry form in his gut when he was informed this was a time sensitive matter. Three days ago, they’d learned that their tadpoles were actually some manner of special snowflake tadpoles.
Honestly, Astarion couldn’t bother to remember all the specifics of it. The only parts of it to him that mattered were that the tadpoles were in stasis, and that it was responsible for allowing him to walk in the sun again. Honestly, if you wanted his opinion? He wasn’t sure he wanted to get rid of it anymore. This was great! Why would he ever want to give it up?
So what if it gave him the occasional weird headache, newfound psionic abilities, and the possibility of a violent cult being responsible for it? Sucked for the rest of them, but none of these were exactly new concepts to him. These were things that he could live with. And if it ever slipped out of stasis to try to transform him, he’d just kill himself, plain and simple.
Once they had learned they were running on a little less borrowed time, Gale had gotten the bright idea for a new project. He had decided that he, by himself, was going to teach Philios how to speak Common.
He’d been very excited about his idea. Going on about it on one of the rare nights that Astarion had taken a pot around the bonfire to fake eating dinner. (He’d figured it would be less suspicious if he at least pretended to eat on occasion, rather than to refuse food at any mention of it.) Gale went on about what a wonderful opportunity it would be to expand Philios’s young mind! Why, maybe Philios could teach them all things as well, once they were on level playing fields! Who knows of all the stories he could tell of his time living in the swamps!
Astarion had only known Philios for a matter of days, and he already knew him well enough to know that wasn’t going to happen. Philios was a man of a lot of action and not a lot of words, language barrier or no. Asides, he couldn’t think of anything story-worthy that might happen in a swamp.
But, who was he to crush Gale’s dreams? It’d be far funnier to watch him try and fail.
The four of them were currently taking a short rest, in a little field they had found off the side of the road. Tav had been given a lead on another potential survivor by a man in the druid grove they’d stumbled across the other day; and that’s where they were headed. It was actually Astarion’s own bitching and moaning that had convinced Tav to at least let them take a break first. They’d been wandering around for what felt like hours.
And while they had nothing better to do - why, what a perfect time for another Common lesson! It was a quaint little scene; Philios sat cross-legged in the grass, Gale on a tree stump so he didn’t have to break his neck to look up at him.
Philios had a tiny, colorful book laid out in his lap that he was studying carefully. Gale had, at some point, become an expert in bartering while Tav had been busy doing worthwhile things; gathering information from the grove’s residents, learning all they could of their condition, etc, etc. In the meantime, Gale had traded some of their preserved meat storage with the tieflings.
It wasn’t like it was that much of a hit to their food supplies; they had way too much meat due to the fact Philios continually refused to eat like a normal person. But he hadn’t even traded it for anything good. All he had asked for in exchange was a small, colorful picture book meant to teach small children how to read and speak.
Astarion wasn’t there, but he could perfectly envision the looks on those tieflings’ faces. A wizard waltzes up to them, a weeks worth of food in hand, and asks for the book their three year old is reading. In Astarion’s imagined retelling of events, Gale was actually mistaken in them being traders. They were a random family that had quickly decided they were salesmen now, for a limited time only!
Astarion had expected Tav to have a conniption over him trading away food behind their back. Even if it was overstock that would be replaced very quickly by their resident hunter. But, to his surprise, exactly the opposite; they were thrilled! Even called it "cute’. Astarion didn’t think he’d ever understand them (and that worried him).
"I’ve never understood why that’s the pangram everyone decided was the default." Tav butted in, leaned up against a tree, idly plucking a tune at a lyre in their lap. "I’ve always preferred the phrase "sphinx of black quartz, judge my vow"."
"Well, yes, while that’s - certainly more theatrical. I think I’d rather save that for a more advanced lesson."
Philios was idly turning the pages of the little book in his lap. It was so tiny in his massive hands, he was being extra careful not to damage it. His eyes slowly scanned each page, mumbling " S...inks...Pinks... " under his breath.
"Oh, look - you’ve confused him now!" Gale snapped his fingers in Philios’s face. The beast-man immediately shot up, eyes wide and ears stood on alert. "Brown, we were on brown. Let’s get back to that before we have to worry about any vows made to stone cat-women."
At that point, Astarion had decided to tune out the sound of commotion happening just below him. He sighed and rolled over onto his back, stretching his arms above his head with a contented groan. The place they had stopped to take their rest was atop a small incline, further up the hill Astarion had found a spot where the trees were particularly thin, and the sun was particularly sunny. And he’d much rather be here right now than be forced to be a bystander to Gale’s fumbling lessons.
Astarion had forgotten about what it felt like to be warm. Being as he was, Astarion no longer produced body heat of his own. And it wasn’t like Cazador was in the interest of providing him or any of his other spawn anything like a heater, fire, or - Gasp! Gods forbid! A blanket. The cold was something that he had just grown accustomed to, numb to if he wanted to be punny. The bone-deep type of cold that nothing could really help and made his fingers feel dead and numb. A very toxic friend of his, the cold.
But now, oho, now! The sun was his best friend. The greatest of pals, the sun and he. And, oh, he was in heaven. He wanted to stay here forever, comfortable in the grass like this, with the sun warming up his ice cold skin. He was actually quite bitter that he’d been dragged out to join the errand-running party today, as he had found a spot by the river that ran through camp where the sun hit exceptionally nicely, and he had planned his whole day around it.
He’d whined and complained when Tav had thrown a wrench into those plans. Couldn’t Lae’zel go with them? He’d cried. She was very happy to yesterday! But Tav had told him no; there were a multitude of abandoned chests and forgotten buildings that they’d found wandering yesterday that were just begging to be looted. And Astarion was the only one among them that knew how to pick a lock.
So, for as long as he was able, Astarion was going to stay squarely here. It wasn’t as nice as his spot by the river, but it would do. The soft grass had a certain charm to it, even though he kept thinking he could feel ants crawling up his legs.
Philios had begun to study his book again during the lull of conversation around him. He’d landed on a page with illustrations depicting simple words beginning with the letter "c". Among them was a drawing of a little tuxedo cat, laying on it’s back next to a sunny window. A happy expression was depicted on it’s face, with it’s paws tucked up against it’s fluffy chest.
Philios brushed the side of his claw over the drawing, and looked over towards Astarion on the hill.
"That would be a cat." Gale explained. "Not sure if those are something you would’ve ever come across where you’re from! I’d imagine cats aren’t very fond of swamps! Typically, they live in homes, if they’re cared for. Or alleyways if they aren’t. They’re delightful little creatures! I have one myself. They make funny little noises like "meow" and "if you touch me again you bloody wizard I’ll make sure this arrow hits your ass"."

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