[ Silence is a perfect signal. Astarion stalks his way in, low to the ground and silent. Knives fall easily from blocks as he gathers a nice array for them. Larger knives for fighting, smaller knives for picking locks. He finds more rope coiled away in a cabinet, a meat hammer, a smattering of coins, and a useless recipe book which he leaves behind. (Those books will encumber you before you know it!) But he had to look, what if it was a tome on necromancy? Wizards have been known to leave books in stranger places.
He slips a knife into Reaper's pocket as well--or tries to, Reaper might get spooked and move faster than him, but the attempt is there. A little something to help him with their guest, if needed. No one is ever going to accuse Astarion of being lawful good. ]
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He slips a knife into Reaper's pocket as well--or tries to, Reaper might get spooked and move faster than him, but the attempt is there. A little something to help him with their guest, if needed. No one is ever going to accuse Astarion of being lawful good. ]