1. Wow, vampire spawn are way less scary than vampires.
2. Calistria's saggy tits, why didn't Astarion give a fake name? 

"Haven't seen anyone like that, sorry." He turns away from the man. "Okay. Vote on whether we go rescue the pregnant girl or go straight to Master Halsin?" 

"Does she even want to be saved?"

"I would also like to remind you that we are on a time limit."

"And we have, what, five days left! Plenty of time to do a few good turns. Assuming of course we can succeed."

"So that's two nos, two yeses, and-- Desna's left tit, we have an even number of party members." 

"That is a flaw with direct democracy."

"Let's look at it this way: are we in imminent danger? Yes." There's a bloody monster hunter right there. "Is she in imminent danger? Probably not. She's being fed and everything, and it's not like she disappeared that recently. We can always come back, trade your eyes, and rescue her."

Astarionnnnnn he is lying to save your life here.

"Wyll?"

He has:

A. A goblin problem to solve and a druid to rescue

B. A devil to catch. 

C. A vampire spawn to... do something with,  once he's worked out why he's not currently a pile of crispy ashes.

D. A kidnapped young woman to rescue

E. A tadpole to get out his head

F. To somehow put this into some sort priority order.

He hates this. "I do think we should rescue her, but we don't know what the Auntie is, and I fear she may be too rich for our blood right now."

See, democracy works out after all!

"You two," he says to the boys with knives, "I'm going to come back, and I'm going to try to rescue your sister. She's not in imminent danger right now, as far as we can tell. But if you try to rescue her, you will die, and your sister won't be any better off. If you don't, you can tell us about Aunt Ethyl, and we'll be better able to figure out her weaknesses and resuce your sister. Okay?"

He hates this he hates this he hates this he hates this so much

If it's any consolation, the other good aligned members of his party also hates this, and Astarion hates that he had to be in the vicinity of a Gur monster hunter going after him?

The brothers make agreeable noises. They are not convincing.

"...those kids are going to die," he says as they leave.

"Oh, they've got a third to add to their trio. They're going to be fine."

"Astarion, do you have something you want to tell us?"

"You're not telling me you believe every Gur monster hunter you meet."

"Astarion must be a pretty common name. If someone was hunting down a lich named Cayden you wouldn't go, 'oh, Cayden, I know a guy named Cayden, his face has skin on it and he can't do any magic but they're probably the same person, they've got the same name.'"

"It's not that common." He holds his hands out. "I have no stakes, nor any desire to use them. I just want to know what's going on. Or if anyone else has woken up unexplainably tired." 

"Not me."

"Nothing outside of the usual." Gods, this makes it sound like he's covering up a vampire spawn, but he isn't, and anyway, Astarion can't be. 

The rest of the party agree that they haven't noticed anything either. 

"Alright. I am choosing to trust," he says, so very much not doing that. 

Hey! Cayden didn't lie once!

He walks forward, unhappy about the tadpoles and Astarion and the two kids he's definitely leaving to die and the fact that at some point he decided he was going to make sure Lae'zel had the githyanki relic even if he had to kill Shadowheart about it and now interacting with Shadowheart at all feels like lying. 

As they're walking, there's a pop as someone teleports in behind them.

He's a finely dressed human man with a deep voice. "My, my, what manner of place is this? A path to redemption, or a road to damnation? Hard to say, for your journey is just beginning. What would suit the occasion? The words to lullaby, perhaps? The mouse smiled brightly, it had outfoxed the cat. Then down came the claw, and that, love, was that. They do know how to write them in Cormyr." He turns directly to Cayden. "Though of course, you'd have not yet experienced that yourself."

He suddenly understands why Zevlar wants this road cleared. 

"Good morning, sir."

"Well met, I am Raphael." He does a flourishy bow. "Very much at your service."