Chapter 1: Vigilante Shit
Chapter Text
Nights in Waterdeep are typically calm and peaceful. There are a few taverns filled with loud, obnoxious drunks who occasionally spill out into the streets. Night markets and other similar gatherings happen seasonally, sure, but for the most part it's rather quiet.
However, it's sometimes the quiet moments you have to be wary of. Terrifying monsters creep in the night to strike when no one is looking.
When they think no one is looking…
All it takes is a rose petal, a small gesture, and a soft spoken word and a man falls to the ground, unconscious. The lone woman he was tailing has no clue she could have been his next victim, she never even saw him.
But Gale Dekarios did, and he wasn't about to let this murderer get away with his crimes. Not this night, and not any more in the future.
With the streetlamp above silently burnt out, darkness shrouds the wizard as he moves the body out of public view. A different vigilante might kill their target there and disappear without a trace, leaving the body to rot, but not Gale. He would never leave a body out where an innocent person might happen upon them, that could cause severe mental trauma! No, Gale likes to take these criminals somewhere where they'll either never be found, or where an officer will absolutely find them first, just to get the news of their death out there.
And then other times, for crimes of a particularly heinous nature, Gale likes to take the perpetrator home… because some people deserve to feel a bit of pain as their punishment before they cross into the afterlife. This happens to be one of those nights.
Quiet as a mouse, Gale gets the sleeping man back to the tower and in his temporary lodgings to await judgement.
—
“Mr. Dekarios!”
Gale jolts awake at the sound of his dearest friend, Tara, as she glides into the study and hops with cat-like grace onto Gale's desk where he had fallen asleep.
“Were you up all night again?? You know you have to set aside time to get all of your students’ papers graded, right?”
Gale lets out a sigh and runs a hand back through his gray streaked brown hair. A small tangle catches on one of his fingers and he cringes a bit as he tries to smooth it out.
“Yes, Tara, I know. But last night was a very important target. If I hadn't apprehended him, he would have killed another innocent woman!”
Tara huffs, sitting down on the papers scattered around his desk, “Of course, but did you have to spend the rest of the night torturing him? An hour would have certainly been enough.”
Gale frowns deeply as he looks at her, “You know the crimes he committed. He deserved the lengthy punishment.”
“But he is gone now, yes? The outcome is the same-“
“Tara.”
“I can see it from your point of view. But just because your-”
“Tara.”
Tara snaps her mouth shut as soon as she hears that tone in Gale's voice. He would never hurt her, she knows that. But upsetting him doesn't make her feel good.
“Gale….” She starts, softly.
Gale leans on the desk, head in his hands. He feels incredibly exhausted.
“... it's okay, Tara. I know you're only looking out for me.”
He reaches out to pet her and she leans her head heavily into his touch.
“There are still a few hours before your morning alarm. Why don't you take yourself to bed so you can at least have a bit of actual rest.”
Gale nods to her and takes a breath before standing. He lets out a groan, his knees cracking a bit as his legs straighten out. Despite only being in his late thirties, he feels so much older. It's likely the years of stress finally catching up to him. From the falling out with his Goddess to when he started this vigilante-style life. It's as though he's lived a hundred years or more. Perhaps entire lifetimes.
He makes his way through the quiet halls of his tower and up to the bedroom. The moonlight pours in through the window, shining a spotlight directly on Gale's large, cozy bed. It beckons him over and he doesn't resist.
As he gets comfortable and begins to fall into sleep, he feels Tara curl up beside him and start her loving little purrs.
—
The morning comes and Gale goes about his daily business. He teaches kids he's grown to truly care for and works alongside people who want nothing but to see the youth of Waterdeep flourish.
He isn't planning on going out tonight, taking out multiple criminals in the span of a few days is much too tiring, not to mention very suspicious. Gale is extremely careful to not leave anything that could possibly be traced back to him. He takes time to plan and go over every step with a fine-toothed comb. Even so, officers will start digging further if several people go missing so soon after one another.
So, for his night of paperwork and only paperwork, Gale gets settled into his study with the finished assignments, his laptop, and hot cup of tea.
Upon starting up said laptop and going to his email account, he spots a few new messages in his inbox. There's a couple from coworkers regarding upcoming school events, one reminding him to renew his subscription to the Magic Monthly newsletter, and an email from an unknown address. The subject line reads “Criminal investigation data.”
Gale obviously opens it, his curiosity peaked. His second line of work isn't exactly public knowledge.
Dear Mr. Dekarios,
It has come to my attention that you are building an archive of data surrounding criminal activities in Waterdeep. I am curious if you would be willing to expand your research outside of your lovely city, specifically to Baldur's Gate. You see, many people, children and adults, have turned up missing recently. However, our law enforcement seems to not really bother with the “enforcing” bit.
Below I have attached several articles regarding the missing persons cases. I also have a personal tie to some of these, and would gladly give you every bit of information I know if you wouldn't mind talking. Please think on it, for our children's sake if nothing else.
Ulma,
Leader of Baldur's Gate’s gur encampment
“An ‘Archive of data?’ Well, that's one way to put it, I suppose.” Gale says to himself as he opens up the attachments.
The articles are all very similar, someone being snatched up in the middle of the night. There are some differences, some victims going missing from taverns, others disappearing on their evening walks. But the biggest thing in common is that all of these kidnappings are happening under the shroud of darkness.
Immediately the gears begin to turn in Gale's brain. There are plenty of criminals he's tracking, but one in such a busy city, and taking children… Well, Gale might have to make this a priority in his work.
Unsure exactly who this “Ulma” is, Gale sends a reply asking for more info, not only on the disappearances, but her encampment as well. He wants to know exactly what he's dealing with before he makes the trip to Baldur's Gate.
A flutter of wings and the light tapping of paws on the hardwood signal Tara's entrance into the study. She looks at Gale curiously.
“What’s on your mind, Mr. Dekarios?”
The corner of Gale's mouth tilts up in a bit of a smirk.
“Tell me, Tara, how would you feel about us taking a little trip down south soon? To the lovely city of Baldur's Gate.”
Tara stares at him blankly, “... it's another criminal isn't it?”
“Whaaat?? Nooo. Tara I would never!”
Gliding over to the desk, Tara gently bops his head with one of her wings.
“Fine. But only if I get to spend time hunting as many pigeons as I'd like.”
Gale smiles brightly,
“You have yourself a deal.”
Chapter 2: I'll Sin When I Have To
Summary:
We get Astarion's PoV, and Astarion meets our favorite wizard!
Notes:
Hey hey! I hope you are liking the story so far!
The chapter titles are lyrics from songs that I find fitting, of course. I might make a playlist, we'll see.This chapter's title comes from "Strength of the World" by Avenged Sevenfold
Chapter Text
There is an aching all throughout Astarion's body as he wakes from his trance. Not that that's a new development or anything. Being the spawn of a sadistic prick of a vampire lord does that to a person.
Astarion hasn't even opened his eyes yet. He relishes in the quiet moment where nobody is yelling at him or ordering him to do something… until he hears a scream from the kennels in the next room over.
Well, it was nice while it lasted.
He cracks his eyes open with a sigh and glances around the room he shares with his six “brothers” and “sisters.” It's mostly barren, though at least each of them gets a chest to keep their belongings… not that any of the items are actually safe there. Cazador made it known long ago that they didn't actually own anything.
It's truly a cutthroat life here in the Szarr palace. If anyone gets the inkling that you're hiding anything, the snooping begins, and whatever is found will be taken to Cazador.
The only loyalty is to him, after all. Even though it isn't given willingly.
He slowly sits up, taking his sweet time. It looks like he's alone in the room at the moment, that is until the door opens and Petras stumbles in. His “brother” looks rough, and Astarion knows why.
“Have fun with Godey?” Astarion asks with a smirk.
Petras scowls and hisses at him, “Careful, Astarion, or I'll show you exactly how Godey and I spent our time together.”
Astarion rolls his eyes, unfazed.
“Don't get angry with me. You should have known better than to question one of Cazador's orders. Just be glad it was a day of torture and not more.”
He delights in the eyeroll he earns from Petras. He knows he's right. Astarion would know, it took years of torment before he learned himself that you say “yes, master” and nothing else unless Cazador demands it of you.
Petras grumbles and sits on his own bed, “He's calling you in tonight, you know.”
Astarion doesn't look surprised, “Yes, and?”
Petras shrugs, he looks smug for some reason. Like he knows something that Astarion doesn't, as if he wasn't the one who just spent 24 hours in the kennels.
Astarion rolls his eyes and stands, stretching his sore muscles and going to change clothes.
It's blessedly quiet… for all of two minutes. Because of course Petras can't keep his stupid mouth shut.
“You’re his favorite, you know.”
Astarion sneers, his defensive walls fully built up, “Tell me something I don't know.”
Petras smirks, his eyes shining with weaponized mirth, “It's why the other spawn hate you, want to see you suffer.”
Astarion doesn't show any emotion in his expression. He simply rolls his eyes once more, though inside he feels a sense of dread, more so than usual.
While he isn't the favored spawn, that title belongs to Leon, Cazador definitely treats Astarion just a bit differently. Enough for the other spawn to take notice. Enough for them to want to hurt him for it.
“If I were his favorite, I'd have the favored spawn room to myself.”
Petras barks out a laugh, no humor behind it, “You know Leon brings him the most victims to keep his stupid kid safe. You're his favorite to play with, though. To show off to others. To offer up-”
Astarion spins around and is in front of Petras in the blink of an eye, hand around his throat.
“You think I want to be paraded around like some prized possession?!”
Petras simply grins, “Don't you?”
Astarion is so close to breaking his neck, but he manages to catch on to the bait. Petras wants him to be angry. He wants him to slip up and hurt him. Cazador would be furious if he did that without his permission.
He takes a breath he definitely doesn't need and lets go of his sibling. He flashes him a practiced smile.
“Actually, I do rather enjoy being out and about while the rest of you are stuck here in the room, or in the kennels.”
The smile on Petras’ face doesn't waver and Astarion hates the knowing look in his eye.
“Whatever you have to say to make yourself actually believe that, brother.”
Astarion says nothing else and continues dressing himself for the day. He does his best to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach, alongside the gnawing hunger from not having eaten in days.
Perhaps if he makes Cazador happy this evening then he'll give him something to eat. Astarion will take anything at this point, no matter how small.
—
It's only an hour later when he's summoned to Cazador's quarters. This is just like any other day. He hates it, obviously, but it's been this way for two centuries, he's easily able to push down the feelings of disgust, given his numbness to it all. There's no point in trying to fight it at this point.
A charmed guard opens the door and announces Astarion's arrival. Astarion hears Cazador confirm to let him enter, so he goes in.
The room, Cazador's bedchamber, is as gaudy as the rest of the mansion. Red and black is draped everywhere, along with some touches of gold and fancy accent furniture all around the room that definitely doesn't get used. No, what gets used most is Cazador's bed… and not for actual sleeping.
immediately upon seeing Cazador, Astarion drops to one knee and bows his head.
“You summoned me, master?”
Cazador saunters over, looking as pompous and smug as ever.
“Look at me, boy.”
Astarion's head moves as if it's being pulled by an individual string. Even if he tried to resist, he wouldn't be able to. His body is not his own, and he's reminded of that every day.
His body truly belongs to his master.
Cazador smirks and reaches down, caressing Astarion's chin in a possessive manner.
“As put together as ever, I see. Good. I'll be sending you out tonight to bring home another meal for me.”
Astarion keeps his face neutral, “Of course, Master. Is there anything else you require of me?”
Cazador tightens his fingers on Astarion's jaw, “When you're finished, you will stay in here and wait for me on the bed, naked, until I come back. Do I make myself clear?”
Astarion swallows hard, “Yes master.”
Cazador pushes Astarion away from him, “Good. Now go do as you're told and do not disappoint me.”
Astarion stumbles a bit, but recovers quickly and stands to rush out of the room. He wants to get as much space between himself and Cazador as possible right now. Despite knowing it won't matter later.
For now, he'll focus on his mission.
—
Astarion goes out into the night and makes his way to his usual haunts. He starts with the Flophouse, knowing that the poor sods drinking there are less likely to be looked for if they go missing. He can't help but feel a little bad about targeting them, but it's better this way than taking someone with a big, caring family who would stop at nothing to find them.
He goes inside and nods to the bartender, who smiles back. Astarion takes a quick glance around the room as he makes his way up to the bar. There are a few regulars that he stays fairly friendly with in order to get dirt on other people who come into the area. He spots three new faces, including a very handsome man with dark, shoulder length hair and even darker eyes. He doesn't look particularly approachable, so Astarion moves past him and targets a sweet looking younger man who's clearly new to the area.
“Well hello there, handsome. What is a guy like you doing in a place like this?” Astarion says as he sits on the barstool next to him. He leans his elbow on the bar and props his head on his hand, looking at the younger man with a smirk.
The man blinks in surprise, “Y-you mean me?”
Astarion laughs, “Who else would I be talking about? You're the most beautiful person in this place!”
The man blushes and smiles, “You're being too kind. Really.”
Astarion reaches out to lightly run his fingertips over the man's arm, “I don't think so in the slightest. Could I buy you a drink?”
“I-I think that sounds nice. Sure!”
Hook, line, and sinker
Astarion has done this so many times, he's practically desensitized to the cruelty of taking advantage of the innocent at this point, lest his guilty conscience consume him completely. This is a typical situation. A young, impressionable person longing for attention. Victims like this are easy. Familiar.
On this night, however, there's something quite unusual.
The man in the corner of the room that Astarion noticed upon entering, the one with the dark hair and eyes, has been staring at him all night. Astarion has felt his eyes on his back, no matter where he went in the bar. It's unnerving to say the least. But for now, he ignores it.
“You know…” Astarion purrs in the ear of his target, “we could have a lot of fun back at my place.”
The man was blushing again, “Th-that sounds nice.”
Astarion smirks, he's too good at this. Being one of the most handsome elves on the face of the earth is such difficult work.
Astarion pays for the drinks and begins to lead the young man outside. On the way, he notices the man that had been staring is now gone.
Well that isn't suspicious at all…
He tries to put it from his mind as he leads the now tipsy man out of the Flophouse and begins taking him a back way to Cazador's mansion.
Unfortunately, it isn't long before things go awry.
It starts with Astarion hearing a soft chanting behind them and a burst of magic that lightly touches his skin, but fades away almost instantly. He smirks to himself, recognizing it as a hold person spell.
Whoever is attacking him must not realize he's undead.
Astarion spins around and immediately pulls out two daggers, “Don't be a coward now, show yourself.”
A figure walks out from around the corner of a building, Astarion's dark vision lets him easily see that it's the strange man from the bar. The man looks at Astarion's target.
“I'd run if I were you. For your own safety.”
Astarion looks at him as well, “Darling, this shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes and we can go right back on our merry way to my place.”
The dark haired man frowns, “If you stick with him, you'll be dead before sunrise.”
The target’s eyes widen and he takes a couple of steps back before turning and running for his life.
Astarion starts after him, “Oh no you d-”
He yells out as he's shoved to the ground by a wave of lightning. He mentally kicks himself for turning his back on an enemy, how stupid is he??
Pushing himself from the ground, Astarion quickly gets to his feet and turns back toward the stranger, holding the hilts of his daggers tightly.
“Look what you've done! You idiot!”
The man lets out a small laugh, “I'm the idiot?? You're the one who thought you could just run away from a wizard.”
“Well, darling, we all have our less than perfect moments, don't we?”
Without another word, Astarion rushes into the shadows to hide. If humans have a weakness, and they do have many, it's that they can't see shit in the dark.
The wizard looks around, ready to throw any spell in his arsenal. Strangely enough, he continues to talk.
“Tell me, why have you been kidnapping people? Children even.”
“Ha!”
Astarion jumps out of the way of the wizard's next strike. Despite the lack of dark vision, the wizard seems to be able to hear him quite well.
“Why would I give you any information? Especially when you're here trying to kill me!”
“I don't want to kill you. I want to bring you in.”
“As if I'd let you do that!”
Astarion moves quickly around in the shadows, trying to keep to the wizard's back. He's trying to get up higher on the buildings. He knows his best option right now will be to escape, rather than take him on.
“I'm going to eventually get you. I won't stop until I do.”
“You're more likely to die trying.”
The wizard spins around and throws out a daylight spell. Astarion thankfully is only close enough to feel a bit of burning on his skin. He hisses and turns, immediately running as fast as his legs can take him. He weaves in and out of shadows, climbing buildings and hopping across rooftops. Anything he can do to throw the wizard off his trail.
He eventually finds a secluded area in the graveyard to hide and he waits, listening.
For a while he stays there in complete silence. Once he's sure he's completely alone, he groans and lies back on the ground.
He's failed… he hasn't failed a hunt in so long. He knows Cazador is going to be angry. Worse than angry, really.
He presses his palms into his eyes and lets the feeling of dread lay over him like a weighted blanket.
He wonders if perhaps he should have just let the wizard capture him after all.