[Ah, that more or less answers the implied question Astarion had presented. He doesn't operate alone, which often means he's slotted somewhere within the framework of an overarching organization. A guild, most likely.]

What do I know about the criminal element? [This almost makes him laugh.] Oh, I've stalked through the nighttime back alleys of Baldur's Gate more than once, that's for certain. You don't make a habit of that without rubbing elbows with a few... unscrupulous sorts. Not that you're very unscrupulous at all, mind.

[Astarion's turn to take the bottle again, though he taps the glass with a fingernail, thoughtful. Perhaps he'll draw the parallel between what he's hearing and a glimpse of a certain fabric he saw tucked away in Winter's pack, once.]

Does this "we" have a name?