"Is everyone prepared for the final interrogation?"

"Fine with me, are you ready Keyleth?  How bad could they be?" The dragonborn breaks out in a grin and lets out a big laugh to release the tensions in the room.

 Keyleth grimaces. "Based on the last three interrogations, pretty bloody bad. Here goes." She opens the flask.

"Ready when you are." Avarice responds, standing back a bit, more ready this time for a nasty surprise.

     Mulligan stands back from the opening of the flask, preferring to instead attempt to linger in the shadows a bit.  No need for whatever may pop out to see him it first glance, if it can be helped. (Stealth: 22 )  He stands at the ready, hands upon his weapons and ready to react... but hopes this one will be a quiet interview...

With the sudden rest healing the party, Keyleth decides to uncork the final, unopened flask. 

In a mirror image of the first three vials, a shadowy image coalesces into a visible shape on the ground before you. 

 The figure stands tall and gaunt - approaching seven feet in height. The man's skin is jaundiced and yellow - at first glance, he appears morbidly ill, though recognizing the man's race would tell a different story. The Githyanki wears a black robe over plated, ruby-encrusted armor. Strapped to his shoulder is a silvery greatsword the Gith are renowned for. 

Most strange about his appearance, though, is his expression. It is one of grief. "I am Galvazon," he introduces, breathing an almost pained sigh. He glances around at the blood still dried on the walls. "I take it I'm not the first one here, so I'll make this quick - I request you show me no mercy. I have deserved the fate I earned - time spent in solitude has consolidated my mind." Despite the shake in his voice, he appears somewhat determined. "The Gith are ready to die for their queen - I was not. I was sent on a raid with my comrades. Only I recognized it was a suicide mission. Put shortly, I was placed in a position where sacrificing my own life would allow all the others a chance to escape alive." A pause. "And here I stand, the only one still breathing; a coward, traitor, fool...call me all the names you want. I deserve it." 

Keyleth frowns. “That’s rather uncharacteristic of a githyanki, isn’t it? Why’d you do it?”

She watches the gith with a critical eye, searching for any sign of deceit or concealment.

Insight: 15 (Cannot roll lower than 24)

Keyleth can tell this Githyanki does not seek to lie. His genuine guilt and remorse seem overwhelming. 

The Githyanki shakes his head with a wince at Keyleth's words. "I know. Cowardice is not rewarded by the Githyanki - and I paid the price for being one." He pauses. The corners of his mouth tighten. "I wandered these halls with a few others before I wound up in this flask for failing at some sort of task. If it aids you, I will tell you their names. We were a group of four - a devilkin," the Gith almost spits, "Leviticus, he called himself, with a mind as sharp as his tongue. Wielder of some magical pact with a blade he whispered into on occasion. I met him and another woman - Zolota, she called herself - trying to bully another woman into following them. You know how these games are - blood is a valuable commodity." The Gith sighs. "The woman was silent. Never spoke more than a word or two at once. Truth be told, she scared me the most. She called herself Equilibrium. She moved faster than the eye could follow, though who am I to tell? We entered a room and it told us to settle our differences with one another. I did not understand the point of the room, but the Tiefling assumed we would need to duel to the death. I know not what happened, for I watched Zolota's sword pierce my chest a moment later. I woke in this flask, and I only ask for you to deliver me to the oblivion I deserve. I should be dead - I should have died long ago, before I wandered the ages, fleeing every shadow out of fear it was an Illithid - or worse, the ghosts of my companions." The Gith shivers. "I can still hear their screams. I will never part with my regret. Death beckons to me." 

Avarice studies the Githyanki intently, but decides to let Kayleth be the judge of his caharcter. "So, is this true remorse?" He asks out loud, but glancing over at Keyleth.

Wulgar is rubbing his chin as the Gith talks.  "Galvazon.  So, during your life, you were a swordsman.  Did you have any other skills?  Are you saying to us that if you were released you would not want that, you just want to die?  Are you going to mope about and try to commit suicide at every turn because of your incredible guilt?  None of us know your situation, perhaps you did the right thing, we don't know.  But I need to know... are you going to be a useless crewman, looking to jump overboard every chance you get, or would you try to help us if we freed you?  One more thing.  Can you describe this Zolota to us?  What did she look like?  Was she a Zhentarim perhaps?"

     Mulligan listens to it all but remains in the shadows best he can.  He sees himself as having nothing useful to add at this point.

“You seem to have come to terms with your failure.  Let me ask… if you could go back… do it all again… would you still run?  Would you still abandon your allies to their fate?  Or would you now - resigned to death as you claim to be - stand tall and accept your duty?”

Keyleth looks at Avarice. “He’s being sincere.”

"Thanks Keyleth." Avarice says. "Sincere remorse, that is a first, and that could well be what our captor thinks should be needed to deserve freedom." He adds thoughtfully.

"I am a swordsman and a magician. One of the legendary Githyanki Gish," Galvazon bitterly spits. "Not that it matters any more. Do you think I'd have left myself alive if I could muster the courage to end my own life?" Galvazon sighs. "I'm a coward. I'm too weak to end with honor, so I ask you to do it for me. Instinct keeps me alive and fighting - the will of my subconscious to keep moving is stronger than my sense of worth." Galvazon narrows his eyes at Varan, and after several moments of uncomfortable silence continues. "I don't know. My mind feeds me lies that I would die with my kin, though my heart recognizes the poisoned cowardice inside me." 

"Zolota was, I believe, a human. Young. Overzealous with joy. Her eyes are mechanical and made of liquid gold; earrings and jewelry of the same hang on her face and body like snow on a tree. She claimed to enjoy her time in this place - she claimed she knew of it, and slaughtered a village so her soul would be drawn here. She knows no honor - only her own glory. She claimed her goal was to 'win'. She seemed certain this was a game - a contest. An arena." 

Ragar shakes his head. "Cowardice has no place in a military, and disloyalty to your queen and comrades is an egregious offense. It is right for you to demand death, for I would have no remorse in dealing with it. Yet, you are remorseful. You are certainly an improvement over the other ones," he says pointing to the two other flasks. 

Turning to the party, he says, "So far, we've had an unrepentant assassin, a devious petitioner, a shapeshifter, and this man. Which one should we choose? I think the answer is obvious."

Keyleth looks conflicted. "He would seem the obvious choice," she agrees. "But is it right, to force him to live on when he clearly doesn't want that?"

     "If we are ready to discuss who to choose, I suggest re-bottling this one so we can do so in leisure," Mulligan says softly.  

“It’s a fascinating exercise.  There are reasons to choose any of these individuals.

If we were to choose out of selfish interest, the Zhentarim would make a powerful martial ally and her motivations appear crystal clear.  The Arcanaloth may possess knowledge and magic that is useful, but any deal we strike with it would surely be poisoned by its boundless knowledge of loopholes and doublespeak.  We would be tempted to trust in a bargain which was written by a master dealcrafter.  The Gith is a self confessed coward and could not be depended upon.”

”If we were to choose based on who is most deserving of mercy, the Zhent is out.  She feels no remorse or shame for her life of violence and murder.  It is down to the Gith or the Arcanaloth.  The Gith is obviously remorseful.  The Arcanaloth is not - but I see a strong argument that the Arcanaloth has committed no crime or foul, and is merely here because it offended our Jailors pride by beating it at dealmaking.”

”I will give two answers and yield to the groups decision.  If I were to choose who to spare based solely on my own values, I would choose the Zhent.  Admittedly, I see much of myself in her and her outlook on life.

If I were to choose based on who least deserves to be destroyed… I would select the Arcanaloth… on the technicality that although a dnagerous creature, I do not believe it has committed any offense to be judged upon.  Keep in mind, if we spare the Arcanaloth, we would be introducing a powerful magic user into our midst… one which still may not have told us everything it knows about this place  and a creature to whom misdirection and manipulation is second only to breathing.”

After all that speech, Varan folds his arms to listen to what the others have to say.

"Yes, and then we have the sincerely remorseful Gith, which still well may be the choice we are supposed to make. That said I completely agree with Varan. I can't see that we still have enough knowledge to be sure to make the right decision but I believe we won't get much further with this either. Maybe we should just put it to a vote and then deal with the consequences as they come." Avarice suggests, arms crossed, leaning by a pillar, looking around at the others.