Lorn shot Stellan a nervous glance.
Ahem...well...
Lorn studied the captive Hooks for a moment, then sniffed at the remaining ash on his hands, pulling an unpleasant face at the smell. Carefully he dusted off the offending substance as he spoke.
Threats are not helping you. How well you come out of this depends on you. If you're not helpful...well we leave you to the beasts to decide your fate. They will come and there will be nothing to protect you.
To emphasize the point, Lorn gestured at the campfire, which extinguished itself with a loud pop and puff of smoke.
Simple as that.
Slowly Lorn walked around behind the hobgoblin, where Hooks could not easily turn his head to see him.
Now we're in a bit of a hurry, so you don't have all day to decide if you want to live or not. If you don't start spitting out something helpful forthwith we'll have to take that as your choice.
Coming around the other side, Lorn stopped and faced the hobgoblin once more.
What will it be then?