Aronax Nier, the frontiersman, did not quite fit in with this motley crew assembled aboard the airship.  But he had never quite managed to fit in.  He was a frontiersman.  A nomadic warrior.  An uncivilized transient amidst a crushing wave of civilization.  He made a noiseless gesture, and Golgotha, his human slave, emerged from under the table, and bowed to her master.  Another gesture sent her away.  He listened to the people at the table, and ruminated on their desire for surprise.  But he had not quite heard of morning surprises -- at least, not this variety of a morning surprise.  He considered, and deliberated, and thought.<br/><br/>"Bard, it does not seem to me that it matters much whether or not the guards shall notice us," he said.   "We will be making advent of them all."  This was a curious remark entrenched in his nomadic culture.  Aronax's people did not believe that they came into being in this lifetime, but in the next.  But that is neither here nor there.  Though he well knew that this adventure could make advent of him, too.<br/><br/>"The prospect is this:  whomever travels, must travel through a thick forest in the dark.  The ship's arrival must occur at dawn.  Timing these two things would be difficult for a practiced party, but we are mostly strangers.  Are you certain that you can travel quickly through the forest, and manage an orc's maze of traps and an active wilderness?  For the beasts roam at dawn and dusk.  A word from you that you can do it would make me confident in the matter."<br/><br/>He wasn't condemning in his tone.  Indeed, he took great care to seem courteous and cautious, since he knew that his imperious nature and his barbaric ways already made him intrinsically judgmental and sexist.