<br/>Aria looked over to Rose and nodded, then crouched closer to Bikke, on her haunches, kukri handle dangling lazily between the last two fingers of one hand. "Just one - two - more things," she asked faux-sweetly, "If you're<em>hoping</em>we'll visit upon this Astos the same regrets as ye, where would he be? And what of Garland, after all this?"<br/><br/>Bikke laughed, "Haw haw! Ye nae captured ol' hornpoints, then? A right coward underneath all the shiny steel, that one. Time woz he guarded the royals in Suzail, though I know 'e's no longer int heir favor, fer sure! When 'e contacted me fer this job, 'e was already took up w' ol' Astos, but I dinnae thing he lives there, least not beyond the scope o' our present plot! Ye'd find the pointy-ear w' most all' the other planar pointy ears, Arvandor 'tis; if ye can navigate yerself there planewise, 'twill find 'im marked in me atlas, which I 'spect ye'll already stole' all o' ar' 'bout to, eh? How it goads me, but 'tis would I would do, I 'spose."<br/><br/>Aria recalled seeing the atlas page in Garland's room which was consistent with this, the hand'marking 'Astos' on (one of) the 'Arvandor' titled pages making more sense now; either he'd borrowed or pinched Bikke's atlas or they both had a copy, she supposed.<br/><br/>"aw..." Bikke groaned as Aria drew her sap again, but then he seemed to nod as the alternative (the kukri or Rose's guisarme, or a plank-walk while still died up) dawned on him. HE gritted his teeth as Aria knocked him across the temple. The black-beared face rolled back, his eyes glassy, tongue lolling, with copious drool from the corner of htis mouth.<br/><br/>Aria muttered, "Dreaming of drow priesteses now, I'll warrant, just as he wished." She then mentioned to Rose how she'd seen markings in the atlas that seemed to jive with what Bikke had said, both in respect to this Astos, and some other markings besides - how the hand-drawn arrows on some of those planar posters now gave her a creepy but corroborated feeling that these men and the alien-intelligent mindflayer had been devising some plane-hopping plan. "'Twill either take more time to go through and figure out in detail, I imagine, or minds more inclined to magic and planar workings than mine, like your suggestion of any sages Sara knows."<br/><br/>She glanced at the rosy sky, ever bright, unburning and never-glaring thanks to the absence of an actual sun. The circadian rhythm of light was rather even here, somewhat like far northern climes in summer, with a token darkening to more romantic lighting (perhaps to be expected in a plane hosting the Realms' goddesses of love and hedonism, among others) over the 'night' hours. It was yet midday; Aria was struck by how swiftly they had worked ever since Rose's duel with Garland and the beginning of their battles.<br/><br/>The ship was now coming in to the pier, coming broadside along the end, Luneth at the wheel while Ingus had found a rope-railed walk-ramp in one of the forecastle storage rooms for disembarking. The metallic-silver-haired mariner jovially thanked Rose again for the spoils, and asked if she cared for Luneth and he to be making the invites and preparations for an on-deck party late that eve, or wait for some later or yet-undecided time.