Thalmarose finishes his morning studies as the goblin starts cackling to itself, and with a cocked eyebrow meanders toward it after packing his things for the excursion. Grabbing a scrap piece of dingy cloth as he approaches, then unceremoniously shoves it in the goblin's mouth. "Now then, you foul excuse for thieving life, you will tell us where the goblin encampment is or I will be forced to start skinning you alive" in goblin, as he unsheathes a small knife and lightly draws it across the goblin's forehead and around it's cheek, stopping just under the eye without the barest hint of elven emotion. Thick green blood starts to well in the shallow path behind the blade, a testament to it's razor sharp edge. "The punishment for thievery is the removal of your right hand...filth, but maybe I should take your eye instead?"