Even through the alcohol-induced haze and relaxation, the pirate can take note of Tarik's words and find his interest piqued by them. Could it be that the vagabonds who attacked him had not been mere opportunists, but men with a vendetta, men with a history? Pirate hunters, perhaps? Bart has fallen foul of those mercenary bastards before now, leaving him with a docked tail and a tattood shoulder for his troubles, and now Tarik mentions it it does seem suspicious that they should decide to attack him of all men. With his sheer armoury of weapons and swaggering attitude, it would have taken a brave thief to think of taking him on, when there were easier prey out there - that leads him to think that it could be targeted.

This realisation makes his flesh crawl, and his drive for vengeance increases tenfold. "Now that you mention it, perhaps that is the case. It seems a tad coincidental that we should both be attacked around the same time, especially when we are men of a similar lifestyle....pirate hunters, maybe?" He pauses for a moment to frown. "Either way, your help would be appreciated. I did not see much of them, as they attacked at night, but they each had a crooked white star on their faces and wore lightweight leather armour on their shoulders and legs." Again, now he thinks of it, that is rather suspicious. Thieves wearing armour? Surely they should value stealth and being lightweight more than protection? It is certainly something to contemplate, and the stag files it away to ponder in more depth later.

He grins as the other man mentions being greeted by beautiful woman. Yes, Helovia did seem rather spoiled in that aspect, with attractive broads as far as the eye could see. Bart definitely approves, and his tipsy eyes twinkle with amusement. "I am sure your family will understand the delay." He pictures Aelfwine and Tilney's faces if he revealed he'd been slow finding them because of the trail of women warming his bed, and can't help but chuckle at the mental image that provides.

With a sigh, he looks to the driftwood. All this conversation is well and good, but the logs won't move themselves! "Shall we get this shifted?" he questions, then begins to force his weight against the topmost piece of wood in order to move it from the depleted pile.