"What kind of goods does my father sell here in Asylum?" The prisoner said smugly knowing full well that the drow couldn't give him the correct answer. "And no asking the militia guard either. You do and you don't get nothing more out of me!"

"I don't know," Irzen replied honestly, "But you seem to miss the point of our little game. The objective is to give an HONEST answer not the CORRECT answer. I honestly do not know what your father sells here in Asylum. And now, it's my turn."

Sergeant Talos looked at the swordsman, "Are you sure you're from the Underdark, and not from the Far Realm?"

"Underdark born and bred," Irzen replied never taking his eyes off of the prisoner.

"Why did you help those thieves steal the relic from the temple?" The Swordsman asked earnestly.

"You're referring to those two streets rats? Huh, they're just pawns for the greater gain. Just a means of delivery and to take out loose ends." The prisoner craned his neck a bit from being stiff.

"Neven?"

"He's telling the truth." The Thief replied simply.

"Your turn!" Irzen grinned from ear to ear, "Ask away!"