As the Cultist started thrashing and screaming in his arms, Kyros adjusted his grip, hoisting the captive's ankles up to rest on his shoulder. The prisoner now dangles at a slant, which the Fighter hoped would be disorienting. With his now free hand, Kyros retrieved a hand axe from his side, and pressed the blade edge into the captive's leg, away from the ropes. Kyros did not use enough force to injure the Cultist, but more than enough so they could understand, even in the darkness. 

"Qe japachi, usv coi geou itrewic tisvelkilt ihk wux!" He commanded in the harsh Draconian tongue.

Intimidation : 9

As Azrial listened to the group he fell in behind Talien; excited at the prospect of talking to someone: "Oh yes, I would love to chat with you! You see, I don't have many friends, I can't imagine why... but that's why I'm out in the world! I have been working in the Church as the person that accompanies people in our order on their last journey. I have always wanted to learn the art of healing though so I have left the church to pursue my new found interest! I am hoping that if I learn enough I will be able to help in other parts of the church and make more friends." Realizing that they are in a rather precarious place and situation he lowers his voice and gestures to a small doll head on his belt. "This is Plop by the way, she's my only friend." He leans closer to Talien and whispers; "she can be a bit sassy sometimes but beggars can't be choosers I suppose." He said with a wink.

Following Archibald through the tunnel, Talien listened intently to Azrial tell his tale. "I would love to discuss the passing of one's life with you in greater detail. In my Grove we view death with great respect as one's body returns to the natural world. I believe that healing will suit you, Azrial! You seem of kind heart and true mind."

As Azrial leaned in close, his clammy aura now ever so present near Talien's face, he whispered in his ear about a small head attached to his belt. The conversation taking a rather unexpected turn, Talien smiled sheepishly and regarded the head with a small nod and hesitantly spoke, "Well met....Plop..."

Talien spoke no more until their captive began screaming, piercing his ears in the tight quarters. "Is everything okay back there? Do we have anything to bind his mouth until we return to the keep? Not that I think we'll run into much more trouble down here, but I'd rather not lose my hearing..."

Azrial turned to look in the direction of the noise and approached the cultist. “Sir, we are trying to be sneaky here and you are making that exceedingly difficult.” As he finished the sentence he took the doll head off his belt and stuffed it in the cultists mouth. “Perfect fit!” He exclaimed and walked back in step with Talien giving him a wide grin. 

Watching Azrial stuff Plop into the gaping maw of the cultist, Talien shrugged and curled his mouth into a half frown, half smile, raised his eyebrows, and nodded as the odd Cleric looked at Talien with a very pleased grin. Perhaps their captive was just too confused to say more, but for the time, it seemed to shut him up, which was fine with him...

As Azrial moved the metal dragon mask off the cultist's face and the dragonborn bellowed at him in Draconic he lay stunned at the brash uncaring for his station, and was even more confused and silenced by the abrupt shove of a doll head into his mouth! The rest of the trip through the tunnel was uneventful minus some gagging sounds of the cultist who was now more disgusted than afraid...

Upon exiting the tunnel the cultist begins to thrash again, realizing now what your plan is. Unrelenting, the two large humanoids hold him fast until you can find Escobert, not far from where you left him.

"Well, that was quick. Is he a captain? Lowlife, good-for-nothing, Orcus-loving..." Escobert the Red mumbles more curses under his breath and yanks the cultists head toward him in between Kyros and Lias. "Who-" he stops short of questioning the human, "-the hell put a doll head in his mouth...?" Escobert's face contorts into half-smile half quizzical look.

"Anyway, bring him with me, we'll head to the dungeon," He adds, shaking his head. Once in the dungeon Escobert cuffs the cultist to a metal bed frame in the corner of the dingy room and walks back out of the cell, door open. "I'm going to go get the governor," he intones in passing. "Feel free to... loosen his tongue while he waits. Ask him questions if you like. We'll compare answers..." he adds with a grin.

As the Guards forced the prisoner down into the dungeon and Escobert shackled him to the furniture, Kyros spent a minute observing the man. 

Insight : 17

When Escobert took his leave, the Dragonborn glanced around at his friends, before stepping up the speak to their captive. "You apparently didn't quite take my meaning in the tunnel." He patted his handaxe as he spoke. "Luckily, some others had more forgiving measures to help you understand."

Kyros removed the doll from the Cultist's mouth, and held it up to appraise it, while the Cultist relaxed his jaw. "Yes, it has excellent craftsmanship, even if it was rather crudely applied." He said handing the doll off to Talien, who was closest.

"As for myself, well, I'm not one much for finesse, either. Though, I'm sure it can get the point across just as well, I find its just not as satisfying." The Fighter approached the cultist with a predatory smile and grabbed his shackled wrist. 

"Now, if I'm counting correctly, we have.. ..3, 4, yes, 5.. chances for you do this easily." The Dragonborn began experimentally bending one of the Cultist's fingers backwards, not really taking any care to be gentle. 

Strength : 8

"Now, I have some questions for you, regarding the discussion you were having just before we chanced upon each other." Kyros paused a moment to recall.

"What Queen do you serve? Who did your little Kobold friend refer to as 'Scary'? And finally, who gave you your orders to drive these fine people from their homes so you could pilfer their valuables?"

Before the Cultist could respond, Kyros began once more bending his finger backwards, out of position. 

Intimidation : 11

Performance : 10

"Now, speak! I'm not quite sure how much strain human joints can take..."

As the Dragonborn hands Talien the doll head, now moist with breath and saliva, he holds it away from himself with a slight scowl on his face. Turning to Azrial, his face turns to an uneasy smile as he hands Plop over to the Cleric eagerly with a slight bow of his head. 

The cultist glares up at Kyros with silent defiance. He glances at his fingers and sets his jaw as the dragonborn starts to bend it against its joint.

"You should know to whom I am loyal, dragonborn. I'm the scary one. I am following the orders of our Queen. Do you serve? Do you hear the calling? Do your worst."

The cultist glares at you and a wry grin ghosts his face.

Kyros:

"A man who likes to do things the diificult way, I see. You've clearly got more gumption than sense, friend." Kyros glances at the rest of the group, "Maybe one of you could persuade him, before he makes me do something he'll truly regret.. Last chance, Peon!" 

The Fighter begins crushing the man's finger out of joint, waiting to hear the snap of tearing muscle and crack of breaking bones beneath the man's whimpering. 

Strength : 5

"Now answer my questions, and try to be more honest this time." 

Insight : 4

"Baphomet take you, dragon!" he spits at you through gritted teeth as his fingers bend unnaturally backward.

 Archibald walked toward where the cultest was chained. "Kyros, Kyros, Kyros, there's no need to get rough with the man. Let's sit, do our nails, and chat-" he sat down, pulled the lockpicking kit from his Thieves' Tools and began thumbing through them, "-have you ever considered painting your claws a nice crimson? It might make you look even more intimidating. But, where are my manners? Of course we should start with our guest." He pulled a particularly flat lockpick from the kit and took one of the cultists fingers in his hand, positioning the lockpick under the fingernail. He looked the cultest in the eyes, "Now, I do believe you were just about to tell my friend here something about your Queen." 

Intimidation: 5 

The cultist spits at Archibald and doesn't move his hand.

Azrial happily takes Plop from the Druid and does a little dance of glee as he wipes her clean and places her back on his belt. However, his dancing was stopped by the realization that his new found friends were now torturing this poor captive.

"Oh no, no, no, no!" He muttered walking through to the shackled Dragonborn. "Pardon me but this is rather barbaric; there's no need for violence here. Tell us the truth."  Azrial demands as he casts Command on the cultist.

The cultist looks up, both his hands currently held by different people, and his eyes gloss over... "Yes. The truth," he mumbles.

"We are cultists of the dragon. We seek to bring the Queen Tiamat to this realm by building the Great Horde to summon her. She has been trapped too long. She has spoken to our leaders and seeks to return to us. Her glory will rain upon the earth, her loyal followers the only ones spared!" he's frothing a little as he intones this, becoming more and more excited.

His demeanor drops back a little and he looks at Kyros, "Frulam is the she the kobold spoke of, and Langdedrosa Cyanwrath is the one he considered scary. They are here. They lead us."

"I guess magic can be more useful than I'd have imagined.." Kyros released the prisoner's hand and nodded to the Cleric. "Thank you, Azrial. I was growing weary of pretending that I was going to have to break his fingers." The Dragonborn brushed his bronze claws together to wipe them clean.

"This news of Tiamat could portend something terrible, though I am unsure. I vaguely recall the name, but only from cautionary tales instilled in me as a whelp." Kyros paused again, thinking back.

History : 15

"Still, at least we now know the names of their leaders here. We should meet once more with Governor Nighthill, and discuss plans of a counter-attack!" His voice rose with enthusiasm at his own suggestion, but he looked at the group before him, and they seemed fairly worn down. So he looked about for something else to do, and spotted the rope sling he'd fashioned outside.

The Fighter began to disassemble the sling, and stowed the rope once more in his pack when he finished. "So long as no-one has further questions of this miscreant, that is.."

Nodding to Azrial as he walks up to the man on the table, Talien looks the cultist sternly in the eyes, "There was a young man, a half-elven, who spoke the word of your followers to some of those in my Grove. Yornan Marben is his name. Do you know of him. Have you seen him? Is he here tonight?" Talien's voice becoming more grave with each question. "This news is unsettling, and if Yornan is, or was involved, I need to know."

Kyros:

 The cultist shakes his head and looks up at Talien, grinning. "Maybe I have, maybe I haven't. There's a lot of us here tonight." He looks warily at Azrial, "But I ain't saying anything I don't have to. Xsio wux!" He hisses at you all.

As Kyros finished packing the rope, his movement slowed.. He turned his head slowly to regard the prisoner, his eyes wide. He moved to face their captive once more, and crouched down to look him directly in the eyes. 

"How will the Hoard help to summon her?!" His voice was stern, but he did his best to speak calmly and mask his slight apprehension, "and what more can you tell us of Frulam and this Cyanwrath?"

Performance : 19

As you lean back down into the cultist's face he pulls it back and frowns at you. "What? Don't all dragons like treasure? I figured you, as one, would at least know that..." he cocks an eyebrow at you. "As for our leaders, I suppose there's no harm saying something. Not like you'll catch them unaware or defeat them anyway..." he sneers. "Frulam Mondath is our Wearer of Purple. She presides over our sect of the cult. Langdedrosa Cyanwrath is her right hand... He's our champion and far more powerful than any of you," He laughs.