It's nice to have several weeks of warning, but the several weeks of warning also mean that Gale fusses. Should he bring something? Shouldn't he? What would be a good thing to bring? What would Astarion like? Would it be overly forward? He does, from a distance, know the sort of things Astarion likes. They've just not... spoken a great deal, personally. He ends up giving up on the gift idea, and just feels guilty about it the entire time instead.
When Gale turns up, he is gently dishevelled. He's in a plain green-blue travelling robe, hair half tied up, hair neatly combed but falling more over his face than usual. The adjustment of hairstyle isn't, however, likely what draws Astarion's eye. The tendrils of the orb that reached up Gale's neck were faint by the time they reached his face, barely-there blue-purple lines that creeped towards his eye. The sort of thing it might even be possible not to notice, unless one were paying attention to the finer points of his features.
They're definitely noticeable now. Darker, more prominent, and there's a faint glow to them. Would that he had learned Disguise Self, eminently more practical than Wall of Fire but he'd never expected to need to hide something like this.
Perhaps Astarion... won't notice? He's tried to encourage his loose hair to cover it somewhat, but given the whole thing reaches up to his eye it only does so much. He steels himself, heads into the tavern and looks around. Weave save him, it's been so long since he's relaxed in a tavern. It's almost nostalgic. His eyes brighten when he finally spots the vampire.
"Astarion! There you are."
He turns to begin threading his way past people over towards the table in the back, apologising under his breath every so often as he pushes past someone.
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When Gale turns up, he is gently dishevelled. He's in a plain green-blue travelling robe, hair half tied up, hair neatly combed but falling more over his face than usual. The adjustment of hairstyle isn't, however, likely what draws Astarion's eye. The tendrils of the orb that reached up Gale's neck were faint by the time they reached his face, barely-there blue-purple lines that creeped towards his eye. The sort of thing it might even be possible not to notice, unless one were paying attention to the finer points of his features.
They're definitely noticeable now. Darker, more prominent, and there's a faint glow to them. Would that he had learned Disguise Self, eminently more practical than Wall of Fire but he'd never expected to need to hide something like this.
Perhaps Astarion... won't notice? He's tried to encourage his loose hair to cover it somewhat, but given the whole thing reaches up to his eye it only does so much. He steels himself, heads into the tavern and looks around. Weave save him, it's been so long since he's relaxed in a tavern. It's almost nostalgic. His eyes brighten when he finally spots the vampire.
"Astarion! There you are."
He turns to begin threading his way past people over towards the table in the back, apologising under his breath every so often as he pushes past someone.