Aria seemed interested and curious, and unjudgemental, that Rose's background was enough different from her own that she hadn't learned to read. She remembered it was actually common among the more tribal humans in the glacial areas to Luskan's north, the Spine of the World mountains and Icewind Dale.  "Mm, yes," she nodded about showing such things to other folk Sara might know, "Haledan for one surely would..."<br/><br/>Aria grinned toothily. "Capital idea...such stature out to help drive the point home." Especially with her compatriot's somewhat tiger-like features, she thought. Aria had been party to interrogation before, in fact it'd been part of her training in the Red Fellowship, albeit a rather clean and lawful take on the process compared to many of its practitioners (the Lady of Strategy numbered paladins among her faithful, even, and the goddess herself was sometimes rumored to have some sort of close or even intimate tie with Torm, a quintessential patron deity for paladins). She didn't consider herself very imposing or good at intimidating at all, but she had learned to some degree how to get a sense of lies or misdirection on the subject's part - rather useful, as captives would understandably and sympathetically often say just whatever they thought their captors wanted to here - and also how to trick captives through lies of their own - guessing or feigning knowledge to trick a captives into confirming it, playing two captives against one another, pretending to be willing to get far more grisly and violent than she was (perhaps to make a fellow captor look friendlier by comparison), and so on.<br/><br/>They had to move Bikke - he'd been knocker down right at the ship's wheel, and was rather in the way of Luneth's imminent piloting efforts - onto the galley deck. Once slapped awake, the blustering black-bearded captain howled and cursed for a moment. Aria sat quietly, picking her well-manicured fingernails with a kukri tip, watching as Bikke struggled and realized the nature of his rope-bindings. She asked a few questions about his and Garland's 'mischief', but almost in the manner of someone musing and talking to herself.  On a few occasions, she made 'patience' hand gestures and body language toward the towering Rose which, complete bluffs for Bikke's sake, were meat to give the impression that Aria knew Rose might at any moment tear Bikke's head off and needed to be calmed and dissuaded from it, at least for now.<br/><br/>After a minute, whether out of mortal fear, boredom, or the reasons he professed, Bikke growled, "Ahh, ta' tha' bleedin' deep with it all! I'll tells ye, a' only if ye promise me one thing - that you'll 'venge me on the dainty fru-fru pointy-ear mage wot 'long with ol' pointy-helm Garlan' go' us into this mess, aye? So this elf fella, Astos woz 'e name, among a whole bleedin'<em>plane</em>o' elves all prancin' bout singin' tra-la-la, wod ya believe it?"<br/><br/>"So it seems 'e and Garland knew each other from back on the Prime, just me me 'an Garland, when elf-pants dwelt in the Archwood wot bordered Cormyr. Mind, this woz all while I was first gettin me' sea legs in the sea off Cormyr, the Sea of Fallen stars, 'mong the Pirate isles - yaa, don' look at me like that, hain't ye heard of 'em? 's they name! They ain't half what they once was, 'alf the pirate captain's inna pockets of those Zhentarim Bane-brains Manshoon and Chembryl, like..."<br/><br/>He coughed and seemed to refocus. "Right, so, from back in the days, I's heard o' this fella from Garland. And then, years later, I gets this sending from 'im, out a' tha blue, 'cross planes even! Somethin' bout how tra-la-Astos 'as this idea for linkin' lower planes to upper through one o' the middle ones, or some mage-speak mish-mash like all that. 'Twould be a boon for a humble planewalker like meself, belikes, 'spec if I'm one o' the first o' only to be wise to it! Seems Astos knows o' a couple o' right strange folk in one o these middle planes, the House o' Nature- - beings o' some power, what has lairs what can be used as conduits for new gates like these! These eviler' in meself, to be sure, but likes ta' hair in a neutral, bountiful plane like that on e- and I don't blame 'em, ye heaven-headed folk's always right of' the pluckin', har har!"<br/><br/>"But this Astos had worked out with his mage-scribbles that he needed...another sort o' help as well. It seems this Astos had contacted<em>him</em>again - Garland I mean - cuz Astos knew, from back in the day, 'bout Garland and Sara, and wouldyabelieve it, they needed Sara somehow, and a few other unwitting folk, for it all ta' come together! Funny thing is, now, I sat in on enough dark rites o' Bane with 'em Zhens, and even saw those Cyric loonies at play, and the like, to know when they needs someone like that, it's all goat-masks and sacrifices yer lookin at'.  But somehow I always had the mind Garland wouldn't stand fer somethin' like that 'pon Sara! Haw haw! I even caught a peek through 'is room I gave 'im that the moony lad woz paintin 'er! Haw!"<br/><br/>"But I tell ye true, 'pon me silky and entirely naturally grown beard, I dinnae ask why he needs her specific'ly, nor' what for! Wotever 'tis, now that it's cost me ship and mates and mebbe life, ye can tell Astos to shove his plan up his lilly-white elven bolthole! And Garlan's helm-horns with it, aye!"<br/><br/>"I didn't care o'ermuch 'bout Sara specific-like, tho' I always did wonder what she was doin' here in Brightwater now, not w' the royal family back in Cormyr. I remember, betimes, 'twas some rumors she warn't truly King Azoun's own, so I thinks to meself, maybe tis nae a a goat-masks and virgin-blood-unde-tha-knife-or-fed-to-a-dragon thing at all, maybe it's leverage on ol' Azoun they needs, and w' sara they can prove some scandal or other. 'Twould make for a fair, fair ransom, I can tell ye that much, back in the day Garlan' and I even talked 'bout it but he wouldn't go for it, least not then. He woz a bit of a shiny-plated pansy at that time still, I tell ye."<br/><br/>"Though on the other hand, a nice ol' sacrifice would be entertain', I've not seen me a good one in, mm, how longnow? Ahhh, fer the good 'ol days 'long the Alamber Sea under tha' nose of Thay...and I never did get to see the drows' , I hear they do the best ones, all sultry-drow-spider-priestesses wi' black whips and none-too-much armor on, ahh, the life fer me!"