You wake up the orc leader and he starts roaring and biting at those of you encircling him. You instinctually pull back your extremities, even without his tusks he could probably sever a finger. After he realizes his situation he stops and glares at all of you, growling.
Az Emberi asks, "Did the Black Spider hire you, are you working for him?"
"The Many Arrows Tribe works for no one! Raaaaggghhhh!" He bites at Az Emberi, more for show than to try and do actual harm.
Fjolnir walks over to Brughor..."Axe-biter... eh?" He pulls Hew from its tieback and pantomimes biting the beard of it.. "Bah- Best start bargaining for your life, limbs, clothes, teeth, or eyes- because you're gonna lose something, and what you bargain with determines what you keep . Your raids on the town of Phandalin and the Triboar end either way. What say ye...?"
You really need to dial it back and listen to the dwarf. We are Bowel Shift, and we typically only leave pieces in our wake. WE, who slayed Venomfang, the dragon. I make sure to inspect Brughor's appearance, mannerisms as he flails about, speaks and notable features. I want to know just who you are and who these Many Arrow are. Resistance will be met with an axe, comply with our questions and demands and you may just walk out of here mostly intact. 17 Intimidation
(Note, I will be dismembering all fallen foes from now on and arranging the parts in odd yet deliberate ways.. if nothing else)
"I don't care who you are, or what you killed, we don't work for nobody, and we don't answer to nobody! Not the Black Spider, and definitely not some group of shit-head cowards that needs to sneak up on people to win a fight!" Brughor struggles against the manacles. 15 They remain unbroken even though veins start to show on his forehead. "Rrrraaaaggghhh! We're gonna go on killin' and takin' what we want, and you sure as hell ain't gonna stop us!"
fine then, we'll let you live. In his voice now. Ill just assume your identity, go town to town, master bating in front of women and children, screaming "HUNGRY!" Debasing your reputation before we turn you into the authorities. Your kin will never live down the shame while you languish in a human prison left to count the days of your dishonor. Yelling and thrashing in his ferocious manner. Forever remembered as Brughol, the perverted. Your memory will no longer inspire fear, instead cringing disgust.
To Dirk: Brughor stands up without the help of his arms, and takes a step, getting uncomfortably close to Dirk's face. "You don't scare me, snake-man. How do you know that isn't already my reputation?" There is now spittle on Dirk's face from Brughor's mouth words.
I'm perfectly content boring you until your end. I'm amused that you talk so tall for the one who is defeated and in chains. just so we're clear nobody snuck up on you, you saw the sphere of darkness coming a mile away. I've taken dumps more difficult than defeating you and your ilk. Hush now, this is no longer about you. all right guys he's made it clear he's of no use to us and does not want to live. It might be easier to grant him death, but I'm actually leaning towards turning him to the authorities. Death is a little to convenient for him.
Dustfinger crouches, pulling up Brughor's head by his hair, so he can clearly acknowledge Dirk's words. Dustfinger slips his blade under Brughor's throat to emphasize the worst is most certainly at hand.
Look at us, orc. You can clearly see who we are. My friend, here, is yuan-ti. I am drow. Apart from your present experience with us as individuals, I think that you know, generally speaking, who we are and what we do. We build empires on fear alone. What do you do, besides killing some cattle and worrying a poor farmer's daughter? I hope you use your final moments to truly appreciate how inconsequential you were before you became of consequence to us.
Fjolnir dismisses the orc blowing air at him like an irritated buck. "Nah you don't owe answers, ah said you were making bids for you staying whole..." he watches Dustfinger grab him. "I dunno about you fellers, but i'm done with him. No bounty for him alive for the dead in Phandalin..." he rustles around for his water and drinks a bit, and collects an arrow from the scuffle that wasn't spent, while talking and facing away from the situation..."I hope you know that feller over there with the pipes on his back, is going to probably cut you up and scatter your bits, and probably start while your still talking to him. Shoulda seen the mess of goblin up on the road west o here... phew... PHEW..."
Dustfinger leans in to whisper next to to Brughor's ear. "All these scars you have, the battles you've seen, the pain you've endured. You've experienced it all before. The fearsome and bloody Brughor. But, tonight, after we've finished with you and have returned to the tavern to tend our wounds and collect our bounty, I'll tell the bar wenches the tale of how Brughor was defeated. I'll show them my delicate elven hands, and my frail elven arms, and we'll laugh at how a skinny little elf took your head. How many pints do you think it will take for the world to forget the name 'Brughor'? Three? Two? Maybe not even one." Dustfinger puts enough pressure on his blade to draw some blood from Brughor.